Timeless
by sweet-destiny3
Summary: Timeless takes you back to the sixteenth century France. Meet Princess Jean DeGreyon, future queen. Meet Scott Somers, a not so wealthy commoner of France. What happens when their two worlds collide with each other? JOTT. COMPLETE!
1. Betrothed

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Disclaimer I promise that I don't have them locked in my basement.

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Author's Note Inspiration from the movie _"Ever After"_, the story _"Snow" _by Jen1703and the song _"Dangerously in Love" _by Beyonce. This is Jott with a little twist. There might be a little Loro later. If you enjoy reading this story I suggest reading Pinkchick's stories because they are very well-written and enjoyable. Please feel free to check out any of my other stories which are all X-men!!! : ) What can I say? I love it!!! Reviews are the most important thing to me so please review because it is the air that I breathe. No reviews, and you'll cut off my air supply. Thank you. Enjoy!!! And REVIEW!!!

**Timeless**

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Chapter 1

Yellow streaks of the warm sunlight shone through the slightly open shutters. The sound of the chickens' calls could be heard through the bedroom windows on a peaceful Spring morning. The light peaked through and made its way onto the feathered pillow. Pieces of red were visible on the white pillow.

"Miss?" a light voice called from outside the large door. But the only response that sounded in the air was a moan. The knob slowly turned as the door opened and a woman wearing a white apron with a white neckerchief over her brown head walked in in a hurry. "Miss, wake up."

"Five more minutes Kitty," the young girl with her face under her pillow mumbled irritably. Kitty went over to the window and pushed the rich brown, with a mix of orange, curtains aside. She opened the shutters as the sunlight washed over the large bed, brown dressers, and colorful paintings.

"Child," the servant regarded the nine year old with a sigh, "your father wants to present a future queen of France to one of the most respectable men to the royal family."

"Leave me," the little girl said as she placed her tiny pale hands over her pillow and squeezed it harder over her long red hair.

"Princess Jean-Marie DeGreyon!" Katherine exclaimed as she uncovered the covers slowly from the top of her body. Katherine then lifted the pillow from her tiny head and hugged the pillow as she gave the little girl a long stare.

"Alright, alright!!!" the girl said with a laugh as she turned her thin body over and uncovered her glittering green eyes from under her tangled red hair. Kitty gave her a genuine smile and Jean smiled back the same. She watched the woman who practically raised her walk over to her casket of clothes and pull out a beautiful pale green dress. The sleeves were laced with yellow string and the front was cut in a V, with white under it. The sleeves flowed outwards down the arms like waterfalls. "You always know what I love."

"Yes, and I also have decent sense in clothing for a beautiful little princess," Katherine said with a smile as she started dressing her with the other servants who walked in minutes later. "Now, off you go," Katherine said as she lightly tapped her rear and watched her head out the door to join her father.

Jean hurried out of her large bedroom and past the stairs that the servants always used. Ever since she was caught going down those steps by her mother she was ridiculed and lectured of all the reasons not to go down them. Jean did not question her mother's requests and tried to stop wondering of the reasons why. Whatever her mother told her she would do because she was an elder and most importantly, she wanted to gain her respect. Truth be told, Kitty was more like her mother than her biological one has ever been. Kitty fed her, taught her, and knew her so well.

Jean twirled her thick red hair around her tiny finger and tightened the tiny ponytail on the top of her hair. She went down the long, red carpeted staircase and tapped her father on his back. "There you are," King Jonathon DeGreyon said with a small smile as he patted his daughter's hair. Her mother, Queen Elaine DeGreyon, turned to her and led Jean to walk in front of her.

The three of them walked outside the palace doors that, Jean believed, were as tall as the sky. They adjourned to the courtyard that contained neatly cut green grass and bushes with concrete laid atop of the earth's dirt for them to walk on. Over the low bushes was an empty land area full of blossoming flowers, tall trees, and grass that looked as if it led to the horizon. "Mother," Jean said before their company arrived. "Why is it so important for me to meet these people?"

"No silly questions Jean-Marie," the queen said with her head held high in the air.

The king looked down at his daughter with more understanding eyes than her mothers. "Dear, their ten year old son, Duncan Mathewette. You are to betroth him."

"Father, what does betroth mean?" Jean asked with confusion.

"You will understand when you are older," her mother answered lightly as she put on a smile when their company arrived.

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A yawn that had been hiding finally escaped the mouth of the extremely bored nine year old. The words that these people spoke made no sense to her and every time she tried to pay attention more questions would enter her mind.

She had pondered the thought of asking the little boy with blonde hair to play with her but he looked so poised. His white nose was stuck in the air and his blue eyes showed no enthusiasm towards anything around him. He was beginning to annoy her when he called the servants back and forth to fetch him what he needed. She knew that he got what he wanted, when he wanted. That also applied to her because of the job description that she held, but she was not as stuck up in the sky as he was.

"Good morning," a calm voice spoke from behind as Jean's head popped up and her green eyes grew wider.

"Grandfather!" she exclaimed as she got up from the breakfast table, ignoring the daggers she felt coming from her mother, and ran into Charles DeGreyon's wrinkled arms. He held a cane in his arms, but he still made exceptions to let go for a little bit to hug his beautiful granddaughter. He struggled to hold her up in his arms, so he set her down quietly as she kissed his bald head. "Please tell me that you are…… I mean," Jean abruptly stopped to clear her throat as she noticed her mother's satisfied face from the corner of her eyes. "Will you be joining us for breakfast today?"

"Of course my dear," he said with warmth in his blue eyes as she led him over to the table. She smiled at him widely before her innocent smile disappeared when her father's voice boomed towards the empty land behind the bushes they were sitting next to.

"You there! Stop boy! Stop!" King John exclaimed as he pointed his finger towards the boy and turned to his guards to run after him. The boy, who was far off in the empty field, stumbled over his feet for a second but regained balance and ran through the flowers and grass.

"Oh that boy!" Queen Elaine exclaimed shortly, half to herself. She turned to her guests, smiled softly, and let out a small laugh. "This is the third year he has managed to sneak his way to our land in the Spring and pick our flowers and eat the fruits from our trees."

"The flowers seem to be blossoming more beautifully this year than any other," Charles said with a small nod. He turned to the servants who were standing to the corners prepared for any work and favors needed. "You have done a wonderful job of keeping the fields clean."

"Yes, well," Duncan's mother began as she patted her black hair net making sure every strand of her light brown hair was in place. "What were we saying before the interruption."

"Oh my dear, I was saying……" Queen Elaine began before she was interrupted by Charles.

"Where is Jean?"

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The boy with chestnut hair ran with increasing speed away from the guards that were designed with fancy clothes and equipped with weapons. He wanted to laugh at the situation. He had outrun two grown and trained guards, and he was only nine years old-going on ten. He had outrun them until now. They were inches away from catching him by what used to be his white blouse.

What were they going to do to him now? He has been coming here when the springtime bloomed for the past three years and not once had he gotten caught. But today was different.

He felt fingertips on the bottom of his thin back and he let out a scream. A scream that sounded like a girl's. He ignored his confused thoughts and kept running past the gate. He closed the small side gates behind him and ran to the side of the pathway full of white rocks and into the forest. Good thing this was not the main entrance, then he was sure he would have gotten caught.

His blue eyes watched from behind the tree he had fell behind. He saw a red-headed girl on the ground in a nice green dress. The guards were helping her up with caution. She smiled at them with thanks as they seemed like they were questioning her. They looked behind them to see emptiness as the boy hid himself behind the tree. A minute later they exited the surroundings, leaving the girl who he had realized was the one who screamed.

She approached the closed gates and put her tiny hands on the metal poles. She squinted her glittering green eyes from the sun. "Hello?" she asked with an echo in her sweet voice. The boy peeked out from the tree slightly. She gave him a friendly smile and gently picked up the flowers that had fallen from his hands. She leaned her hand in forward to give them to him.

He slightly blushed at the flowers he had been picking. "They are for my mother," he finally spoke.

"That was completely brave of you," Jean said with enthusiasm when she felt comfort in the silence between them.

"Me?" the boy said as he brushed his small hands through his falling hair. "Well, I did see the guards chewing on something before they came after me." Jean laughed lightly following the boy's smile. "Are you alright?"

"You half-wit!" Jean exclaimed, to her surprise, with laughter. "It was a distraction for you to escape." The boy looked at her with admiration at her wit.

"Do you want to play with me?" the boy asked as Jean's lips let a wide smile escape. Finally, someone who wanted to play with her. She nodded her head and opened the gates to walk up to the friendly boy.

"I'm Jean-Marie DeGreyon. What is your name?"

"Scott Alex Somers."

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"Betroth," Jean murmured to herself quietly as she sat in one of the corners of the large library of the palace, next to a small iron window with clear glass. She held a book that was thick in width, but small in length.

Her small finger flipped through the pages with tiny words on it. She followed all the words beginning with "B" until she came upon the one she knew was familiar to her ears. "Betroth."

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Betroth (bi troth', -troth'), v.t., **-trothed, -troth-ing**. **1. **To arrange for the marriage of. **2. **_Archaic_. to promise to marry.

Jean read it aloud to herself and gulped down the saliva that had built up in her mouth. "That is a funny thing to promise."

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	2. Marry Me

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Chapter 2

"Jean-Marie!" Queen Elaine exclaimed with terror on her face as she examined her muddy twelve year old daughter. "What in Heaven's name have you been up to?"

"Dinner is promptly at seven and we cannot have you looking like that," King John said with slight frustration in his voice. Jean just stood there with her muddy head down, looking at her muddy shoes. She bent her head down, not because she was ashamed, but because she did not want her parents to see her smiling.

She had been playing outside with Scott and they had fallen in the mud somehow right before she fumbled inside the palace through the front gates. She did not want to leave him but she knew she had to. She knew that it was time for dinner and her royal duties. Unfortunately, she had not gotten past her parents in time.

"It's that boy, is it not?!?" Queen Elaine exclaimed with question and disbelief. "Jean-Marie DeGreyon! I will not allow you to go gallivanting any further with that boy. He has corrupted your young mind and as the queen of France I will not tolerate such behavior!"

"Mother, we were merely," Jean began but knew better than to interrupt her mother when she was angry.

"Silence child," her mother yelled with a whisper. She bent her head towards the now taller Jean and Jean brought her head up to look into her mother's eyes. "If I catch you with that boy………" her mother began as Jean unconsciously tuned her out. She swallowed hard and to her surprise, the sound ejected outwards. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Um, Madam," Kitty began in the corner of the wide hall. She neared Jean and put her hands on Jean's muddy shoulders. "Should I clean her up now? Your guests will be arriving soon."

"Jean," Queen Elaine said without regard to Kitty. "I will not speak any further because I expect you to be the responsible future queen I know you are. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Madam," Jean said robotically.

"Katherine," Queen Elaine said as she put her arm through her husbands as always. Jean never saw her parents more happier with each other except at special occasions or dinner with other people of importance. "Get Jean cleaned up for dinner. Our guests will be arriving soon."

"Yes, Madam."

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Queen Elaine forced herself into her large red bed in a large, echoing room that was surrounded by red curtains. It was led by a long corridor in a secret premises no one but one servant and their children were allowed to enter. She pulled the red covers up her flannel white nightgown and turned her head away from her husband.

"Oh Elaine, she is growing up, what did you expect?" King John asked as he turned his head away from her also.

"I expected better from Katherine," Queen Elaine said as she rolled her eyes regarding her husband who was not visible to her face. "After all she does get paid to nurture her when I cannot."

"Which brings me to the question of 'do we honestly know our daughter?'" King John said with annoyance towards his wife.

"It is enough that I receive stress from being a Queen and a mother of a trouble-making twelve year old girl, I don't need it from you!" Queen Elaine exclaimed with a rising voice. "I know my daughter well enough."

"I am just trying to reason……"

"Trying to reason with me, John?" Queen Elaine squawked. She had her head turned over her shoulder now, green eyes darting at her husband. She felt an overwhelming feeling of emptiness and anger. "You are always regarding her without my consent, and you give her everything she wants! Including her wanting to be with that boy! Next thing we know he shall be pursuing her into a romantic relationship to become wealthy and to be king of France."

"We have only seen him a few times and merely created small talk. We do not even know if he is decent," King John said as he imitated Queen Elaine's movement in her positions. "He may be a very nice boy."

"Enough! I know what kind of family he comes from," she said quietly, but harshly. "You never think of these kind of things. I thought I knew you better when I married you but what I have learned is that you are a man whose eyes are closed and……"

"Elaine," King John said as he retreated his head to his fluffy white pillow. He was ready to extend their argument and disagreements but he felt tired. He sighed and felt Elaine tug at the covers. "Could we please stop arguing? We never have time for oursel………"

"Good night," Queen Elaine said sharply as silence echoed in the large room.

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Scott tilted his head backwards and looked up the long castle wall. "Jean!" he yelled in a whisper. "Jean!" he repeated, but more loudly this time until he noticed red hair peak from the square window. "Are you positive it is alright with your parents? I sometimes forget that they are the king and queen of France," Scott said, shaking his head slightly.

"We have been doing this for three years. Ever since we met when we were nine years old," Jean said with a reassuring wave of her fair hand. "You think they are going to say something now?" Jean asked not regarding the scene with her parents two days ago. She grabbed the rope that Scott had threw up to her window. She tied it around a nail that was in the side wall of her bedroom. After she had done her duty, she allowed Scott to climb up the rope as she went to change.

"Good afternoon," Scott greeted properly when he made it through the window and into her room without the slightest show of struggle.

"Good afternoon," Jean said as she heard footsteps approaching the fanlike object she was changing behind. "Stop right there. I'm changing. And don't you dare look," Jean said with a warning voice followed by a small giggle.

"Your wish is my command," he said playfully as he watched her nightgown swing over the black fan-like object covering her. Jean suddenly came out in a bonnet and a dark blue ensemble, not that of a princess. "You look like……like a peasant."

"Well that's the point, stupid. We are going to town now, are we not?" Jean said with a laugh from Scott. She went over to her dresser to brush her long red hair. "Let us not waist time. While I am brushing my hair, could you do me a favor and tell me what books are on the table. I want to return the ones I have already read before we go into town."

"Yes, Me Lady," Scott said sweetly as he went over to the brown table decorated with fancy engravings. "Um…there is a book with large imprint on it."

"Well, what does it say?"

"There is another one with a black cover that is small and thick," Scott said with a low and shameful voice.

"Scott, you know how many of those there are?" Jean asked rhetorically with a slight annoyance. "Can you please tell me what they are called?"

Scott gulped down the saliva that was sitting in his mouth for so long. He could not ignore it now. It has come back to haunt him like it has ever since he learned what it was. He felt a sick feeling in his stomach when he passed the library in town. Sometimes he would watch Jean finishing up an intriguing passage in a book before she would join him and his heart and mind longed to be in her place. To have the beauty of knowledge that she contained.

"Scott?" Jean asked slowly as she turned her red head around. "You can't read, can you?" She looked at her friend who had the expression she has had many times. She could always read his mind somehow and feel his thoughts. And right now she knew he wanted to crouch in a corner, and put his knees up to his face.

Jean approached him quickly and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder to say, "Do not worry, everything will be alright. I shall teach you."

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The day shone with soft light from the bright yellow star surrounded by fluffy clouds. The brick cemented pathway down the market gave Jean the feeling of freedom. The feeling that she could stroll down to the end of it and choose if she wanted to go left or right.

Jean and Scott followed each other's steps across the streets of France. Jean made sure her bonnet was placed well upon her head. She did not want a fiasco concerning her, the princess. She did not want people guarding her, helping her, or treating her special. She ran her delicate, clean fingers to smoothen her dark blue dress that was Kitty's old one in which she let her borrow.

They both made a stop at the bakery. They could not resist that heavenly smell that lingered in the air. "Why, hello there," the kind man greeted. He wore a long white hat that fluffed up from the top and a white apron around his round belly.

Jean watched as he made the dough for the bread. She watched him carefully as he placed the bread in perfect lines and into the oven nicely. His hands were slightly dirty and large, but his face was so welcoming. Jean had never come to the bakery to get bread. Servants would get it for them. They would eat and eat at dinner and say how wonderfully delicious it was. But they would never say anything about the people behind the work. The people who make such wonderful things for others to eat and enjoy.

"Those smell delicious, Mister," Jean said, taking in the warm smell of the fresh bread. "I have never smelled it so fresh in my life. Must be crazy for you to sit here and make the bread, but never be able to eat it."

"Ah my dear, this is true. Although I may not be able to eat it, does not mean you cannot eat it and let me know that I have done a good job," the baker said as he handed them both pieces of warm, fresh bread. Jean and Scott popped it into their mouths and devoured it slowly.

"You have not done a good job. You have done better than that," Jean said with a smile followed by one from Scott.

"Thank you," Scott said kindly as they left the bakery and strolled down the street. Scott suddenly walked in front of Jean and faced her, walking backwards. Jean stopped and looked at him with a puzzled expression. Scott walked with his nose in the air and his back erected up. He placed his hands out in a very womanly fashion and glided beside Jean. "Let us play the guessing game. Who am I?" Scott asked.

"That's easy," Jean said. "My mother." Scott started waving lightly with his hand as Jean started laughing hard, Scott joining in afterwards. When they both calmed down she looked at Scott and gave an honest statement. "You are the bravest soul I know to imitate the queen of France."

"I know," Scott said smugly as Jean gave him a little shove.

"Scott," Jean whispered as she saw a crowd gathered around gypsies. Some were dancing quite lovely while others were reading palms. Jean had the urge to watch them dancing, but the crowd was too big and she knew she would be robbed.

"What is it?" Scott asked as he followed her green eyes and looked in her direction.

"Look there. Gypsies," Jean said with slight disgust.

"Um……" Scott hesitated. "Do you want to watch them dancing? Or do you want them to read your palm?"

"Scott! They are thieves," Jean said flatly. "They will rob you where you are standing. They are not to be trusted."

"Uh…… why not?" Scott questioned.

"They do not have a solid home, they steal, and their way of life is barbaric," Jean said with disgust. Scott just looked away and began to walk away from them with Jean by his side. "Their way of life is disgusting and unacceptable. Something we would never be able to live in."

They walked down the street until they stopped at a little stand outside, across from the church, that was selling small artifacts such as broaches. Scott started looking at the things on the stand and examining them. But Jean noticed someone in the street corner, near the side wall of the church. She walked closer to learn more of the hooded person.

"Young missy!" the salesman yelled urgently in a whisper. "You come here now young missy and stop looking over yonder. You youngsters should not be wandering the streets alone."

"Who……" Jean and Scott began together, as if reading each other, but were interrupted.

"Turn it down missy," the man said as he looked around to make sure no one was listening. He bent his bald head down as it sunk into it's own shadow, only revealing the tips of his long black mustache. "You do not want to be attracting attention for yourself to the man over there."

"What is wrong with that man?" Scott asked as he looked over there.

"They say he goes by the name of Kurtis Chagner," the salesman said in a low voice. "He comes from Germany with a sister named Marie Chagner," he said, cringing.

"Well what is wrong with him and his sister?" Jean asked as her and Scott listened intently. "He and his sister are beggars. They have no home, no family. People say that they murdered their mother and fled to France to find a new life. They are filthy and dangerous. They say Kurtis is a devil. If you went near him or talked to him or did anything but put money in his hat, he would chop your head off. They also say that his sister deprives families of their mothers. They say she kills mothers because she had a poor one. She is filthy and eats rats. Her nickname is said to be Rogue because of the rogue that she is."

Jean and Scott were taken aback by the horrible story. They looked at the man with frightened eyes. Jean suddenly changed her expression into an annoyed one. "You are making this all up. Where in God's name did you think of a story such as that?"

"They do not believe in God, young missy," the salesman said as Jean and Scott glanced at each other. Jean grabbed Scott and walked away from the intimidating man behind the counter.

"I am not afraid," Jean said courageously. Then she glanced at the hooded man and slouched slightly but brought her shoulders back up with pride. "Are you?"

"No, no. I am not afraid," Scott said with as much pride. "In fact, I have a coin to spare. I shall walk up there and drop this in his hat."

"Great idea," Jean said with a small smile. "Let's go." Jean and Scott walked up to the hooded man slowly. He was sitting in a fashion that was undecided because his long robe covered all of his body, making nothing visible to the naked eye. His face was also not seen behind the hood that reflected black inside. Jean and Scott walked close together with their heads held high. Scott took out his coin and held it in his hand for a few seconds.

"You do the honors," Scott said to Jean as she took it quickly. She bent down a little, making sure she was a few feet distance away from the man. She reached out her hand and dropped the coin in.

A hand suddenly popped out of the robe and grabbed her wrist before she could move it away from the hat. Jean and Scott let out a loud shriek as Scott began to run. Pulling on Jean's free hand. But the hooded man's grasp was tight. Jean kept screaming at the top of her lungs as she stared at the only thing visible to her terrified eyes at the moment. The pale hand coming out of the robe and holding her wrist tight.

She heard Scott screaming behind her and tugging at her right arm. "JEAN!!!" was all he could scream.

"SCOTT!!!" she screamed back as Scott pulled harder. Jean tumbled over him when her hand was finally freed from the man's grasp. They both got up and ran away as fast as they could without looking back.

They ran all the way back to the palace. They went through the fields that Scott always picked flowers from and into the courtyard. Thankfully, it was empty.

"Jean, Scott," a voice spoke from behind them. They both let out a small shriek and put their hands over their hearts when they realized who it was.

"Grandfather," Jean said with relief. "You scared us half to death."

Charles just looked at them with suspicion and let out a small smile. "Your mother is looking for you."

"Jean?!" Queen Elaine's voice boomed from inside the palace. Her footsteps were getting closer. Jean darted her head towards Scott and widened her eyes.

"If my mother finds out that I was out with you she will kill me!" Jean exclaimed.

"Mousier," Scott said kindly to Charles.

"Grandfather, would you be so kind as to," Jean began as she turned to hear her mother's footsteps getting closer.

"Jean," Charles said in disbelief. "Would I ever?"

"Please Grandfather!" Jean pleaded.

"Would I ever………be anything but a Grandfather if I did not lead you outside the palace before the queen has a fit, son?" Charles said as he placed his arm around Scott's small shoulders.

"Thank you," Scott said with a smile as he tilted his head upwards to look at the bald head of Charles. "Grandfather."

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Scott sat next to Jean in the corner of the large library behind a large book shelf. It was full of all sorts of books and Scott had never seen anything so amazing. They both sat on the floor, close together, with their knees up to their chests as Jean taught him the alphabet and the pronun-ciations that went with each symbol. Scott followed along with a smile as he learned new things that he never thought he could ever learn.

Jean abruptly stopped and looked over at Scott who was trying to memorize a letter he was stuck on. "Scott, how come you do not have the knowledge of reading and writing?" Jean asked with curiosity. Scott's face darted upwards as he looked at Jean blankly. "Do your parents not teach you?" Jean asked.

"My parents say it is just the way things are," Scott said with his own confusion. "When I told them I did not understand, they told me I would understand when I was older."

"Understand what?" Jean asked.

"Why I cannot read, I guess," Scott said as Jean listened to the rain pounding against the glass window of the library. She listened to the silence around them and Scott's steady breathing. His breathing was becoming deeper and it blended with the sound of the rain. It was like a personal symphony made for her ears only. Jean felt comfortable as his head lay on her shoulder. "Jean?"

"Hmm?" Jean answered with a moan, deep in thought.

"Do you really think that the hooded man, or Kurtis Chagner, really killed his mother?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Jean answered without thought. "Why do you think he left Germany? Do you think that he left because people spoke of him in Germany the same way they speak of him here?"

"Of course. He and his sister murdered their own mother," Scott said flatly.

"But they know that here too. Why would he move if it is going to be the same thing here as it was in Germany?"

"I do not know," Scott said with retreat. "Jean?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you marry me?"

"Sure."

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	3. Kurtis Chagner

Reviewers note: Mark C Lil Jean, Miss Ginny, fluffy's numba 1 gal, Optic Red, and CPBaker12: I wanted to thank you for all of your support and great reviews. You have inspired me and motivated me to write more. Because of all the wonderful feedback I get from the wonderful readers out there, all I can think about is my story. When I go to bed, in my dreams, in math class, etc. Keep reading because it gets better………

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Chapter 3

Jean felt the pain pierce through her stomach like never before. Her body swayed back and forth just slightly and she tried hard to keep her ground. Ah, the pain of being a woman. "Kitty, is this really necessary?" Jean asked with irritation at the strings of the corset pulling tightly around her torso.

"I think he is a fine man, Jean," Kitty said with a smile as she concentrated on working the strings of the white corset. "A fine man that you need to learn about and soon learn to love. Which brings me to the conclusion of, yes it is necessary to go to dinner tonight."

Jean looked back at Kitty and gave her a full smile before saying, "I was talking about the corset."

"Alright then," Kitty said with a smile. "It is necessary to wear the corset to look stunning for Duncan."

"Kitty," Jean said as she slightly knitted her eyebrows. "You are using that tone."

"What tone?"

"The tone you use when you are not telling the full truth," Jean said as she turned her head to the front and focused her eyes on an object.

Kitty sighed and told the other servant who was helping with the corset to leave. She finished tying the strings and then turned Jean towards her. She put her hands on Jean's cheeks and tilted her head towards her blue eyes. "You are growing up so fast. You are fourteen now, a half grown woman. I trust you to make your own decisions."

"I love you too," Jean said as she placed her hands on Kitty's wrists. "But this is where you are wrong. This is not my decision."

"I remember when you were a little girl," Kitty began. She allowed Jean to wear her dress on her own as she walked over to the window to dust her sheets. "Your mother and father were doing their social duties while I was taking care of you. You were only four and you ran out of the palace, across the courtyard, and up a tree. You were climbing it fiercely." Jean mouthed the words with her as if the story was repeated many times before. It was repeated many times before. "I told you to come down before you hurt yourself, but you told me that what you were doing was worth it."

"It was," Jean finished. "You asked me 'what is?'. I just smiled when I reached the top. You asked me what was so amusing."

"And you said 'I saved the bird's nest'," Kitty said as Jean laughed at her silliness.

"But this story has no significance with what's happening right now," Jean said as Kitty turned her body fully towards her.

Kitty smiled and said, "I was terrified for your safety. But when I realized what you were doing I knew you would be alright on your own. And I know you can handle this."

"That is what you think," Jean said with a whisper. She had not seen Duncan ever since the first time she met him. He was always out of town with his parents and who knows what. She did not know what he was like, how he looked, or anything about him. Jean finished up with her hair and turned to Kitty after some deep thinking was done with.

"Kitty, I know that it is possible to learn to love someone," Jean began as she adjusted her dress and fixed her hair. "But what if that person cannot learn to love someone because they are already in love with someone else."

"If you know that you are promised to marry someone else, then you should be aware of the consequences derived from those actions," Kitty reasoned. "But life is like an unread book. New characters appear everywhere, bringing unexpected things."

"Life _is_ like reading a book," Jean said lightly. "The fairytale is always happening to other people." Kitty let out a laugh and turned to the window to remove the sheets. She kept tugging at them but they would not come up. Something was pulling fiercely on them. Or rather, someone.

"What in God's name………" Kitty began before her question was answered in no time.

Scott popped his head in as Kitty let out a loud shriek. He tumbled into the sheets and over Kitty. Kitty began to struggle beneath his weight and the clean sheets. But Scott managed to find his way out and helped Kitty up. Jean's laughter was heard echoing in the back the whole time the scene was playing. "Good evening, Madame Kitty," he said as he revealed his face from beneath his hood. Kitty smiled at his kindness and pinched his cheeks, hard. Scott rubbed them after she let go and a smile suddenly escaped.

"Good evening, Sir Scott," Kitty said with a small bow. "My, my, how you have grown since the last time I saw you."

"Madame, you saw me the day before yesterday," Scott said with a smile as he turned to Jean. His breath suddenly caught in his throat when he looked over her ensemble. Her hair was neatly placed in a green net that held her braded bun in place. The rest of her loose red hair had been curled and one curl had freely fallen to the side of her face. She was dressed in a green dress that came off her shoulders. It had a yellow design on the front that resembled to emblems with sharp ends on the side. Her sleeves were fluffy in a diameter and stopped at mid-point on the top part of her arm. Tight yellow see-through sleeves covered the rest of her arm and were carved with neatly sewed designs. Before the bottom skirt of the dress flowed to the floor, a yellow stripe stopped right beneath her breasts. A little bit of cleavage was uncovered above her yellow collar and Scott tried not to stare. "Y-you…you," he stuttered before he regained control again. "You look lovely," he finally said as he gave her hand a peck.

Jean was surprised to find her cheeks flushed. But it quickly disappeared as Scott started pacing back and forth, his white blouse flapping against his growing chest. He quickly spilled the words that he has been anticipating to tell her. "What is it?" Jean asked with curiosity.

"Jean," Scott said lightly. "He's back."

"Who is?" Jean asked before gasping and putting her hand over her heart. It was the mysterious man they had run away from two years ago. Kurtis Chagner. They had not seen him ever since that day and so it has escaped their minds. It always amazed Jean of how the daily things in life can help you put the important things behind you. But things so important always found a way to come back and haunt those who consider it important.

A knock on the door suddenly sounded and a voice spoke. The voice of King John. "Jean, are you decent?"

"Be patient, Father, I am not yet done," Jean called back as she turned to Scott. She grabbed his wrist and dragged him over to place him under her bed. She bent down to see if it was clear under there when she heard something behind her. Scott had tripped over the sheets and was stumbling towards the window. "SCOTT!" Jean screamed in a whisper. Scott quickly brought her voice to his attention and fumbled with his balance to go straight out the window. Jean heard Kitty gasp as Scott went over and Jean's dad knocked once again.

Jean ran over to the window and grabbed Scott's wrist. Suddenly the door opened and in came her mother. She brushed past Kitty without regard and looked down upon her daughter. "It is time to go," Queen Elaine said with a strict voice. Jean leaned the bottom of her wrist against the window sill in a carefree manner and gave her mother a smile. "Jean, what has gotten into you?"

Jean laughed lightly and said, "Nothing, nothing." Tight breathes came running from her mouth as she tried to hide it from the presence of her mother. She was going to act like nothing was wrong. She was going to act like Scott wasn't dangling from her window and was too heavy for her to hold for too long.

She swallowed her saliva as she felt her arm moving forward and Scott's wrist slipping from her grip. She let out a loud shriek. "Jean! That is no way for a princess to behave," Queen Elaine stated with a pointing finger.

"I thought I saw a fly," Jean said as she tightened her grip roughly. At times like this, she wished she could lift things with her mind. "But, it's nothing mother. Really."

"Good," Queen Elaine said with satisfactory. "Then you shall be down in the dining hall promptly in five minutes. No later. I think you will enjoy Duncan's company. He is a fine, well-mannered, well-bread young man," Queen Elaine said with emphasis on every adjective she described. Jean gave a tight smile as her mother began to exit the room.

Jean's palms were sweaty and were about to loose their grip on Scott. Her mother was inches from the doorway when she abruptly stopped and turned towards Jean. Scott's wrist was at her fingertips. "You look beautiful," Queen Elaine said silently.

"Oh, Kitty helped with the………" Jean began but abruptly stopped, realizing her mother was out the door now, not regarding the last words she said.

Jean sighed with relief and all the worry flowed out of her. Wait, it was all coming back like a flood of water. Scott was still dangling outside her window of a tall tower and a long way down.

She could not feel a wrist beneath her skin. Kitty shut the door and Jean looked out the window. "Scott!" she screamed as she bent her body out the window and grabbed Scott's wrists with both hands. She pulled Scott up with Kitty's help from the back. Scott tumbled over Jean as they both fell to the floor with a heaving breath.

He took in a deep breath and put his hand on his heart. "You _were_ serious about your mother killing me if she found me with you."

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Jean wandered around the dining hall, waiting for dinner to be served. She watched everyone mingle with each other so respectfully and properly. It was what she was used to, but it made her want to be out with Scott. Everyone that she had mingled with before she wandered off always spoke of the same things. Some things she quite did not understand, such as politics. They spoke of interesting things at times, but it amazed her of how they would not speak of the baker, the salesmen, the gypsies, or the ordinary townspeople. They did not know them individually or how they individually live.

To be future queen of a country she always thought that you had to know the people to rule the people. Her whole life she had been taught one solemn way. She obeyed what she learned but never should question. But she has always had so many questions that needed to be asked. So many questions that were never answered. Sometimes she asked herself if the only way to receive some answers was to experience the questions. If only she could do so, but there were duties she had to fulfill…………

"So this is my future wife?" Duncan asked rhetorically as he kissed her hand with slight intimacy. Jean had to back away slightly at his actions. She heard him take a deep breath and noticed him examining her body with his mischievous eyes. She folded her arms across her chest and tried to smile. But something about him made her uncomfortable. Every time she would look into someone's eyes she would know. Everyone else seemed to have a similar sixth sense but she believed hers was slightly different. She felt something strong every time she would look into a persons pupil. Not their whole eye shape or face. She just concentrated on their pupil and she would feel a great wave of pressure. A wave of feelings, as if she could read the summary of their soul. If the summary was good or bad or loving. Despite what she felt when she looked at Duncan, she tried her hardest to manage a fake smile.

He brushed his hands through his blond hair and gave her an un-genuine smile in return. They sat in silence for two moments when Jean had the need to start talking soon or die. "So, what sort of books do you fancy?" Jean asked vaguely.

"I adore books of war," Duncan stated.

Jean nodded politely. "Do you feel any interest in books of philosophy?"

"I do not believe in the theories of philosophers," Duncan said. "I believe they are inhumane and based on a world that does not exist. No, no……the only philosophy for this world is to fulfill the obligations of the certain privileges everyone was born into. Every kind for himself. Those who are born as thieves must be punished for the obligations of their birthright."

Jean's eyebrows were unconsciously creased and her head was taken aback slightly. After Duncan finished what he was saying, Jean realized the stunned expression left on her face. She tried to get rid of it before someone thought something was terribly wrong with her.

Duncan suddenly broke out in annoying laughter. "I hope I did not frighten you, me lady. War is a subject not to discuss with such feminism, purity, fragileness, and beauty," he said as he held her hand in his. He bent down to kiss it again and looked up at her with piercing blue eyes. Jean froze at the look in his eyes. She suddenly felt goose bumps formulated by fear on her cold skin. His hands let go of hers when the sound of the bell for dinner erupted. "Shall we adjourn to dinner?" he asked.

Jean just nodded. She tried to speak but no sound could come out. Jean decided it was just a side-effect. She walked a few feet behind Duncan so she could examine something she had noticed from under the table that the metal cups with rubies were placed on. She walked over to the table and was suddenly pulled down towards it when the coast was clear. A hand went over her mouth and Jean's eyes widened, muttering muffled words from beneath the hand. Her body started moving from side to side as she struggled to remove the hand over her mouth.

"Shh, Jean," a familiar voice spoke. "It is just me." When the hand let go of her she pushed him away from her.

"SCOTT!" Jean exclaimed with joy as she leaned forward and hugged him. After that, she punched him in the stomach. "Don't ever scare me like that again!"

"Sorry," Scott whispered under the table. The room was empty, for all the guests had adjourned to the next room. "I was contemplating something in my head."

"Great," Jean said with an excited tone. Scott just looked at her. Jean looked back after seconds of silence. "Well, what is it?"

"Oh," Scott said. "He got up from the side of the cathedral." Jean stared wide-eyed at Scott as he did the same. "We have to………"

"Follow him," Jean finished for him as she grabbed his hand. They peeked their heads from under the table. The candles lit the room with quiet light as their shadows whispered across the marble floor and over to the servants doorway. Jean grabbed two candles for light in the dark night and handed one to Scott. They fled through the servants exit and looked up at the night sky. No visible moon tonight, no stars in the sky. Just the raven night.

They walked close together as they grabbed a horse from the shed. Jean climbed on as Scott rode behind her. She kicked her legs to the side of the horse as they rode away in a rush.

"Uh, Jean," Scott said hesitantly when they were almost there. "We were riding so fast that the candles went out."

"Should have thought of that," Jean said as they hopped off the horse. Jean grabbed a torch from the side of the church as Scott led her to where he saw Kurtis Chagner go. They went around the church and towards the back when they saw a shadowed figure enter. "Oh my Lord."

"Do not worry, me lady," Scott said with bravery in his voice. "I shall protect you." Jean rolled her eyes at his comment for she knew he was as scared as she was. Scott threw the torch to the ground so they would walk in unnoticed in the dim light of the cathedral.

The cathedral shone with candle light that spoke of peace and love. But that was the last thing Jean and Scott felt at the moment. The statues of the great profits stood next to the colorful tinted glass windows of the large church. It was quiet and empty as shadows crept along the wooden benches and metal candle holders.

They walked in and hid behind a long pole hooked to the floor from the ceiling. They looked out from both sides to see the hooded figure gone.

"Where did he go?" Jean asked as she spotted a shadow covering theirs. Jean and Scott turned around to see the hooded figure standing inches away from them with a candle to his chest. They heard him say muffled words and looked at each other with fear.

The candle lit the top part of his face as he lifted his eyes to look at the frightened teenagers. The brown eyes that he owned were the lightest brown Jean and Scott had ever seen. They were so brown they could pass for the color yellow. They shone with the candle's light on them as he spoke the words again. Jean and Scott looked at each other worriedly as he neared them. They both let out a scream and ran to the sides of where they were standing.

They ran to the door and opened it with force. They heard it open behind them and they increased their speed. They heard his muffled words again but more clearly this time. "I am going to burn you," he said with a low voice that emanated growling vibrations.

"RUN! RUN! RUN!" Scott shouted as they both ran as fast as they could, away from the shadowy figure they believed was running after them.

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Reminder REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!


	4. Free Spirit

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Chapter 4

"Your majesty," Duncan's mother began at the large dining table. "I must comment on that beautiful work of art on the wall over there. It is quite magnificent."

Queen Elaine took a second to look to the painting Duncan's mother was referring to. It was something to talk about while she wondered where in God's name her daughter was. It has been fifteen minutes and no questions of to where she was from her future in-laws yet. "Yes, it was a painting drawn on our wedding day," she stated calmly and politely. The painting was of her and her husband. The color was a light orange and yellow, as if it was painted by the sun. She never looked upon it much, for it never really occurred to her that it was beautiful. It painted a lie of her and her husband's so called love. Although they looked very happy together. Faces of joy and positions of hope. What happened to them is that life brought upon it's spell of reality.

"I think the painting glitters with royalty and is magnanimous, your majesty," Duncan stated as he ate carefully with his fork making sure nothing dripped or touched his heavy beige blouse dangling with jewelry. "It's as lovely as your daughter." Duncan gave a hard smile and pretended to look around as if he did not notice she wasn't here before. "Where _is_ your daughter, your highness," Duncan said almost through cringed teeth.

"My daughter?" Queen Elaine said as she glanced at the king for an answer.

"Oh yes, she seems to have disappeared," Duncan's father managed to say through the tension.

"She's a free spirit," King John said as Queen Elaine laughed through a tight mouth to ease her nerves. "Yes, a very free spirit……"

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Jean ran inches behind Scott with his hand around her wrist. He was leading her somewhere. She didn't know exactly where yet. But she knew somewhere safe from Kurtis Chagner. She was afraid to look back and see him behind her and so was Scott. So they kept their eyes forward and their legs moving.

When they were past the town, woods, and down the hill, they came to a stop. It seemed as if they have been running forever. Their legs could not carry them any longer, so they fell to the ground.

Jean took a moment to catch her breath and regain the feeling in her bones. She contemplated the words she had heard from Kurtis Chagner back at the church. Now she definitely believed the story, no doubt about it. Did the priest not see him in the church? Did he not do anything about it? What kind of society were they living in? No one knew of anyone else.

Jean silently put her head on the dirt, not careful of her hair or clothes. She was unaware of the surrounding around her as well as the people. Her eyes began to shut after ten minutes of silence and rest. "Jean?" Scott asked as he stared at his friend for a long moment. "J…e…a…n…?…?…?"

Jean's eyes shut completely and in seconds she was lost in her sleep, in her dreams.

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Music played loudly from a tambourine and a small trumpet sounded in Jean's ears. She didn't feel her usual fluffy pillows under her, but instead a thin sheet on a rock floor. She had never slept on the floor before and she was glad for that by the way it feels. But there was something about the music and the laughter and the noise that made her want to stay sleeping on the uncomfortable mattress.

She was somehow unafraid to open her eyes. She fluttered them open for a fire light to cover her green eyes. There was a large fire lit in the middle and torches hung on the rock walls. Jean peered to the opening on both sides of the room to see woods. She peered up at the ceiling to see a wavy roof of light brown rocks.

"Wake up my child," a voice sounded in Jean's ears. A kind and calm voice. Jean opened her eyes fully to see a woman wearing a beautiful, color-coded dress. It flowed to the bottom of her ankles in red and tightened around her small waist in red, blue, and yellow. White sleeves fluffed out from her arms and brought out the tone of her dark skin.

The soothing looking woman patted Jean's dirt covered face with a red scarf. It had what looked like gold coins hanging down from it. Jean sat up slightly and looked upon the woman's face with wide eyes. She had never seen a person such as this. The woman's blue eyes glittered through her dark skin and her long raven hair looked like the night sky. The light of the fire reflected off of it as the many white strands of her hair shone through. She looked extremely young to start growing white hairs.

Wait……… what if this was Kurtis Chagner's sister? What if she had caught her and Kurtis had caught Scott? The last thing she remembered seeing was the soil covered earth. What if this woman was just pretending to be nice and wearing something to disguise herself? What if, what if, what if?!?!

Jean could not stop it. She could not contain the questions anymore, so she let out a piercing scream. Then she saw Scott and let out another piercing scream because of her confusion. She felt cold water tumble onto her face which stopped the loud noise that was coming out of her mouth. She looked up at Scott who was now holding an empty bucket that had been full of water.

"Do not worry about that, my child," the woman on her knees said as she tied the scarf around her waist. She handed Jean a green scarf with almost the same design as hers and Jean embraced it. She wiped her face lightly and placed the scarf in her lap. To calm herself down she began to fiddle with the edges of it. "You just frightened Scott a bit with that scream of yours."

A smile suddenly escaped on Jean's lips at the thought of the whole situation. Who was she kidding, this is not Kurtis Chagner's sister. She looked around behind the woman to see people dancing, drinking, and having a good time with each other. The music was so loud that her scream could not be heard. Boy, she wished that could happen at her dinner parties.

"But there is not anything or anyone to fear in life, my child, but those who fear life and everyone in it, rather than live it," Ororo spoke with wisdom beyond her years.

Jean looked into her blue eyes intently and respectfully. Those were words of beauty. But she was still confused. Where were they and why had she fallen asleep? "Hello Mother," Scott said as he sat beside her and gave her a peck on the cheek. He handed his mother a bouquet of flowers and faced Jean with unwilling eyes. His heart was beating faster than usual and his palms were getting sweaty. Maybe it was a mistake to bring her here, to his home. But where else would they go?

Mother? Ok, now she was even more confused. Mother?

"Jean," Scott said as he cleared his throat in hope to get rid of the shakiness, "this is Ororo, my mother."

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"How could she just leave like that?!? Does she not know the consequences of her actions?" Queen Elaine raged to her husband and Charles, former king.

"We should be asking where she is and if she's safe or not," King John yelled back to his Queen in a proper manner. Queen Elaine began to pace back and forth with her hands on her hips. She stopped and turned to look at her husband.

"Do not lecture me about my daughter's safety. I believe I tried to tell you that before when she was with that, that………boy," Queen Elaine said with a loud whisper. "Whatever his name is."

King John turned to look at his father-in-law and Charles just shrugged. What was he supposed to say?

"I don't know exactly where she is but I do know who she's with. She is with that filthy boy," Queen Elaine said stressfully. "And if she is with him then there is no doubt that she is in no place a princess should be."

"Elaine, when she makes it home, God willing, you will not be forceful upon her," King John said with a pointed finger at his stressed wife.

"That is exactly the kind of behavior that needs to be bestowed upon her 'free spirit'!"

"No, that is exactly the kind of behavior that will drive our daughter away from us!"

Queen Elaine glared at her husband and turned on her heel to exit the planning room. King John watched her disappear into the long hallway and gave a long sigh. "Maybe Jean should be able to choose the man she is going to marry. Then she won't have any regrets."

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Scott sat next to her as Ororo got up and left them alone. Scott cleared his throat and looked at Jean. He smiled at the dirt covering one half of her face and noted that she still looked beautiful, the way she is. Inside and out. "They took me in when I was one year old. They took me in when no one else would and I remember them my whole life, no one else. They are my family, this is my home. I can't find any other way to speak of this. I am a gypsy."

Jean widened her eyes at the surprise but was not afraid. She had to admit to herself that she was terrified at first. But when she heard the laughter and the environment around her the more she fell in love with it. Why had Scott not brought her here before?

Familiar words suddenly rang in her ears. _……they are thieves……they do not have a solid home………their way of life is barbaric………disgusting and unacceptable. Something we would never be able to live in,_ she heard the words spoken with her voice.

"But I promise that I have never robbed you," Scott said as he put his hands up in defense.

Jean let out her usual giggle which made Scott's face widen with a huge smile. She looked around the place and noticed mothers taking care of their young, men courting women, and happiness. They were kind enough to care for a son that is not their own. They were kind enough to see him when no one else would. "Gypsies would only steal because their own country would deprive them of equality," Jean said lightly as she took a sip of water Scott had given her. She was taken aback by her own words. Where did that come from? It was true and an intelligent thing to say. Especially when she was not being a hypocrite to herself. Maybe if King and Queen of countries mingled with the commoners they would know how to run their country correctly.

"I propose not everyone agrees with the concepts Utopia presents," Scott said with a large smile as his shakiness disappeared.

Jean sighed and blinked hard and long at the thoughts of maybe ruining her country when she was queen. "You want to know my secret?" Jean asked Scott as he nodded and looked at her intently. "I always wish that I could be able to read minds. That way I would know what everyone wanted and everybody would live a perfect life."

"Then life would not introduce much of a challenge, would it?" Scott questioned rhetorically as Jean laughed. "I might add that you cannot satisfy everyone's needs because they all wish opposing things."

"I suppose you are right," Jean said with a smile and a sigh to follow. "Then that brings me to a conclusion. If one wants to satisfy correctly, one should satisfy a single person. Their lover and companion."

Scott diverted his attention towards his friend and began to admire her features more every time he looked upon them. Her lips always seemed to captivate him.

He watched her watching fortune tellers work their magic. They had talent, but the picture of a woman foretelling her son's future in front of her eyes helped her believe they did it for the enjoyment of their young. Jean put her hand, palm up, on Scott's knee. Scott looked at her with a confused line formed on his white forehead. "Read my palm," Jean said as Scott laughed and raised her palm slightly so he could be able to look upon it. While he was studying her palm Jean studied his face. There was something different about it at that very moment. She never took time to notice his masculine features. He had an edged and strong jaw line that tightened when he was trying to concentrate. His grip was firm but tender with his growing hands. His broad shoulders were like an armor she could hold onto and lean on. He looked up at her and began talking. Jean had never seen his eyes look so catchy. She had to blink twice and look away when she caught them on accident. They were soft, warm, and affectionate. With his lips pursed in the glowing light of the fire, Jean had to admit that she found him very attractive.

"Although you are a spoiled princess," Scott said with a laugh, "your palm says that you are passionate about your people. You are kind and full of energy."

"Tell me something I do not know," Jean said jokingly.

"It says here that you are engaged," Scott said as he looked closer at her palm.

Jean's heart began to beat faster. She suddenly had fear that he would know she was betrothed to Duncan. But she brushed her worries away with her words by saying, "Really? To whom?"

"You have been engaged for almost two years now," Scott said as Jean began to wonder who. He was definitely not talking about Duncan.

"Well, who is it?"

"A handsome fellow who goes by the name of," Scott paused to run his hands through his hair, "Scott." Jean broke out in laughter followed by Scott's. She leaned her loose red hair against the rock wall and watched everyone in a brawl, having a good time. She's never seen anything like it. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a gruff voice.

"Listen child," the gruff voice began, "your mother is beginning to think that I need to be more romantic if you continue giving her roses everyday!" The man was muscularly built with deep black hair and a beard. His eyebrows were creased inwards and he was scowling. But when Scott got up to stand next to him he was not very tall. The man took out a sword from the side of his pants as one of the other gypsies threw Scott a sword. Jean gasped at the sight. Why was this man doing such a thing?

They parried. Scott suddenly dropped his sword as the man held the tip of the sword to the bottom of his chin. "I surrender Father. She is all yours tonight." The man suddenly dropped his sword and began to clap and laugh with a raspy voice. Jean started to clap along with them and found herself cheering also. It was not allowed in the castle, for a lady should never raise her voice above a gentle hum of a whisper.

Scott turned his father to Jean and introduced her to him. "Madam," the gypsy man, Logan, said as he bowed lightly. "Be careful with him, appearances can be deceiving." Jean could not help laughing at that. She watched how the man properly bowed and went over to his love, Ororo. The way they lived was a bit different than her way back home, but when she watched mother and son together along with father and son she decided that human beings will be human beings.

Scott diverted his attention to the direction Jean's green eyes were pointing. She was watching how Logan held Ororo's hand with purity and love. He was a gruff but good man, and what she saw now was a man bowing down to something more powerful than he. Love. She wondered why a concept such as that could possibly be named. This concept they call love has no language. It is blind to see gypsy from royalty.

"Sometimes we call my mother the weather," Scott said, interrupting her thoughts. He slouched and leaned on his palms that were placed behind his back. Jean was sitting upright more as she put her knees to her chest. She found this position comfortable and almost impossible to do at home in front of people.

"Why is that?" Jean asked with interest and curiosity as she moved her eyes from his parents and onto him.

"She can be as calm as the damp summer air or as windy as the autumn leaves," Scott said with a smile and twinkle in his eyes. "She is too young to begin to grow white hairs. So we tease her and tell her that it is because she loves the snow so much."

"Your parents are so interesting," Jean said as if she had known them forever. "I wish I could have met them before."

Scott bent his head forward shamefully in a way. "The reason my father is the gypsy leader is because of his strong-will. A strong-will is needed in a world such as this," Scott said, lowering his voice. His tone was serious and full of emotion. She believed he also had a strong-will to show such sentiment. "People look at those who are different from them. They look at them _and_ punish them. Many times in his life has my father been sent to the stalks. And every time he comes out stronger."

"How is it that first they make thieves and then punish them?" Jean asked as she looked at the fire, oblivious to Scott's eyes on her.

"You not only taught me how to read with passion, but also read with passion yourself," Scott said as Jean turned to him and smiled with flushed cheeks. "You take in everything you read, as if each word is a lesson of life somehow."

"Yes, but you also have to experience life to learn from it," Jean said as Scott nodded with enthusiasm at her wit. "What about you? You live a life with gypsies and are best friends with a princess."

"I manage," Scott said as they both giggled.

Jean subsided slowly and turned her eyes to watch the wonderfully happy people who definitely know how to have fun. Her eyes fell on Ororo and Logan again and she found them laughing together as Logan gave her a peck on the cheek. Logan held her shoulders with a firm grip as if to say she was only his, but made sure he would not hurt her. She looked at him as if she was enchanted and he looked at her as if her eyes had him captivated. As if she had trapped him in there and their love burned the key. Their mouths did not move to speak except for the smiles that emanated from them. Logan suddenly put one finger up to indicate for her to hold on for one second. He reached for his back pocket and slipped out a white rose and then he took her in his embrace. Then he looked around him to make sure no one had been looking. Jean would give anything to see her parents acting like they owned their own world.

"Flowers, to my father and I, symbolize our favorite females. Ones we claim to be the most beautiful ones in our eyes," Scott explained intently. Jean just nodded and smiled as she took another sip of her water. She sipped up the last drops and suddenly felt more thirsty. "Here, let me fill that up for you."

Jean handed him the cup and said her thanks as she watched him get up. She looked down on her lap to find a red rose, the color of her hair. She embraced it in her hands and inhaled the sweet sent deeply. A smile escaped her lips as she held the rose and stared at it for the longest moments. There was something different about the color green in her eyes, for there was a twinkle that shone brightly.

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Author's Note: I quoted "First you make thieves and then punish them" from the movie _Ever After, _who quoted it from the book _Utopia_.


	5. Discrimination

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Chapter 5

Jean looked at the red rose that laid between her delicate, yet dirty fingers. She raised it to her nose to smell the sweet scent again and again so it would be imprinted in her clouded head. Scott had something in common with her. A passion for the life laid before their eyes. A princess and a gypsy, just living and breathing the air around them. Actually taking time to feel the breeze and smell the air. She lightly carried the rose to her chest.

The sound of her shoes sounded on the hard marble floor. She lightly bent down to take them off and held them in her hands. She lifted the hem of her green dress in her other hand with the rose, making sure the rose was untouched. She slowly touched the steps of the servants entry way and closed their door behind her. She looked to her left and then to her right. No one was scurrying around at the moment so she headed to her room. She had completely forgotten about the dinner but was relieved that she had not stayed. Although the consequences were not going to be good.

She turned the corner and immediately ran into someone. Oh no, was it her mother? Jean let out a gasp as a hand went over her mouth. She widened her eyes as her heart began to beat in her ears. "Shh, Madam," Kitty said as she removed her hand from Jean's mouth. Jean let out a sigh of relief. It was just Kitty.

"Kitty, I," Jean began quietly.

"Jean," Kitty regarded her by her first name and Jean smiled at that. "I do not need you to explain to me where you have been." Jean smiled when Kitty's words were done. Kitty made her feel so comfortable with her happy personality and knowledge of Jean's personality. Kitty's eyes immediately diverted to the red rose. "I'm reading a book about Jean-Marie DeGreyon and I sense that the next scene is not going to be well. Although the brave and intelligent servant and care-taker warned her about the consequences of her actions with the prince of the novel."

Jean giggled and rolled her eyes playfully. Although she knew Kitty's words were true. Kitty put her arm in the middle of Jean's back and led her to her room quietly. Jean turned to her and placed her head on her shoulder. When they reached her room Jean wore her shoes and dropped the hem of her dress. She reached for the doorknob when she felt another person's skin over hers. Jean looked to her side to see her mother's tilted body. Jean suddenly felt her hand pulled off the doorknob and jolted back by her mother's force. The rose fell from her fingers and onto the hard floor, making a loud thud in Jean's ears. Her parents had not noticed. "Where have you been?" Jean shut her slightly open mouth, clenched her jaw, and leaned her back against the rock wall. She did not have the feeling of putting up with her mother's lectures now. She was so worn out. "You are in a heap of trouble young lady. After humiliating your parents and the king and queen of France, you owe me a big explanation. Now, answer me!!!"

Jean looked to Kitty, who was standing next to her, from the corner of her eyes. Kitty already knew who she was with but there was no need to tell her mother. "I was at the library," Jean answered vaguely. She had the urge to lie to her mother or to anyone who questioned her. She had the urge to be selfish and keep the experience to herself, and no one else. But she had to admit to herself that was a vague lie and her mother saw right past it.

"Do not lie to us!" King John put in after his silent moments.

Queen Elaine grabbed Jean's hand and examined her fingers. "You are filthy," she said with disgust as Jean hid her hands behind her back. "No doubt that you were with that peasant boy!"

"His name is Scott, Mother," Jean stated almost quietly. Queen Elaine did not regard her and just knitted her shaped brown eyebrows together.

"I already forbade you to see that boy Jean-Marie," Queen Elaine practically shouted as Jean cringed to the name her mother regarded her with. "If I learn that you are with that boy once again the wedding will be moved up one year!" She started pacing back and forth as Jean put her lips together tightly. "He is not worthy for your hand when he makes those delicate hands filthy with his kind. He is but a filthy, illiterate wretch! If you think that he will treat you well and 'love' you, you are out of line. The only reason he spends time with you is because of your wealth."

Jean clenched her sweaty palms into a fist and began to let the heated body let out energy. "Duncan Mathewette would only marry me to obtain a higher social status. Is he not marrying me for the money also, Mother?!?"

"Well at least Duncan has a mind to think with," Queen Elaine stated harshly, green eyes piercingly cold.

Jean felt like knocking the gold, jeweled crown onto the floor. "I begin to wonder which is better, to have no mind or to have no heart," Jean said as her green eyes sent daggers to her mother. Jean stayed against the wall and did not move a muscle. They were as tense as her gaze.

"We will continue this conversation in the morning," King John stated. "I think we all need a good night's sleep." Jean let out a sigh of relief and turned on her heel. She entered her room and shut the door behind her.

"John," Queen Elaine started. "Why did you not say anything? The girl obviously needs more discipline."

Kitty looked at Queen Elaine and knew that she had to say something. It was her place. "Your Majesty," she began as Queen Elaine turned to her surprisingly. "Jean needs time to sort her thoughts out about this Duncan lad. She takes things slow and is a deep thinker."

"Katherine, there is nothing to sort out," Queen Elaine said with emphasis on each word. "She is marrying that boy whether she likes it or not. And if I may remind you that it is your job to let her know that. You know she goes with that boy and yet you have done nothing to stop her."

"I told her that she………" Kitty said shyly before she was cut off.

"That shall come out of your pay," Queen Elaine said strictly. "Your job is not so challenging, yet you fail at it anyways." Kitty creased her eyebrows and bit her lip. The happiness in her blue eyes disappeared and was replaced by water. Tears that were pleading to escape.

Kitty did not look in the queen's direction. She just went around the king and escaped down the nearest steps. "Don't you think you were being a bit harsh?" King John asked as he watched Kitty disappear into the huge castle.

Queen Elaine squinted her green eyes at him and turned the corner next to Jean's bedroom. King John walked the other way with a sigh. A hint of dimmed red shone from beneath Queen Elaine's rising feet.

The only sound left in the empty hall was the sound of the weeping and crushed red rose that lightly rained upon the cold floor.

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Jean stretched her arms out from under her white covers and moaned loudly. She heard a knock at her locked door. She laid in silence for she had no feeling to speak to anyone. No feeling to speak to her parents. "Jean, it is just me, Kitty," Kitty said lightly as she tapped at her door once again. Jean shot out from bed and ran to the door. She stood there for a moment and looked at the brown door blankly. She had heard every word her mother had said and fell into emotional shock.

She closed her green and tired eyes lightly to breathe in the sunlight of the room. She would have some authority around here. Everyone tells her she could change the country and maybe even the world. But what they don't realize is she cannot do that as a princess. She only wished she could tell her mother to open her eyes and see her country, her people. But her mother could not possibly understand the people on her grounds when her nose is in the air. "Jean child?" Kitty's voice spoke from the opposite side of the door.

Jean lightly turned the doorknob and looked at Kitty's solemn face in return with a solemn face. Her blue eyes did not look as happy as usual. Jean always praised Kitty on her love of life even though she does not live in treasure. Someone who can live with passion when passion is what highness believe commoners and servants lack is considered, in her mind, more than just great.

Jean remembered all the fourteen years of her life and how much Kitty was involved in them. So she moved closer to her real mother and wrapped her arms around her shoulders and back and pressed against her chest and stomach. She felt warmth as Kitty ran her hand across the top of her hair. She stayed in her arms for long moments before she finally let go. Kitty gave her a wide smile as the happiness in her bright blue eyes reappeared. "What was that for?" she asked with warmth and love.

"Thank you," Jean whispered kindly. "For being such a good mother."

"Well it was not a privilege," Kitty said as Jean waited for her to say something further. "It was an honor." Kitty walked into the room and then paused. "You are growing. It is time to choose your own clothes without anyone's help."

"Finally!" Jean exclaimed with pleasure and confidence. Kitty informed her that she would be in the kitchen if she needed anything. Jean dressed herself with no corset and a very beautiful red gown. It's color was like an apple's and she felt like a fruit. But she was satisfied none-the-less with the dark red lace through the puffy sleeves and the white undergarment hanging through them. The top part of the dress covered much of her stomach and flowed the rest of the way down. Jean smiled at her reflection and let her hair loose, leaving two braids hanging together from the back.

She opened the door and decided to head out to find Scott today, rather than him coming to her. She had the urge to see the gypsies again. She started walking at a fast pace through the long corridor of paintings and past the throne room. It was empty, or so she thought. She stopped at the doorway and reversed her steps to find a moving body inside. A moving body with a blond head. She decided to discuss the matter she had been discussing with herself last night with him. But before she barged in she watched from the slightly open silver lined door.

She watched as he placed Jean's future crown on his head and folded one arm to his chest. She watched as he walked up the red carpet and towards the seats on the thrown. Jean watched with disgust as she slammed the door open before he could sit and cleared her throat. "Jean!" Duncan exclaimed with surprise. He went down the steps and slightly jogged up to her. He reached his hand behind her and shut the door. Jean backed up slightly against the door. She put her hand on his chest to back him away from her.

"That would be mine," Jean said as she took it off his head. She placed it on the table next to her and circled around him. "I've been meaning to speak to you of something vitally important."

"Nothing is more important than the beauty I see in front of me," Duncan said as he gave her hand a peck and gazed at her with his piercing blue eyes.

"Charmed, I'm sure," Jean said with a half smile as she took her hand away from his grasp. "Duncan, betrothal to one another is something our parents have negotiated." Jean paused and began to walk forward to the thrown. Duncan placed his pale hands together and put them behind his back. He slightly bent his head forward to understand what his future wife was talking about. He motioned with his hands for her to continue. "If I were to inform my parents on choice of marriage and you do the same, maybe……… maybe they will allow us to do so. Would you not want to marry by force but instead by love?"

"Love!" Duncan exclaimed as he barked out a laugh. "What is it with women and love anyways? A woman is a beautiful creature and nothing else. Her job is to prefect herself and satisfy her husband and that is the end of her duties."

"Are you implying that I am not capable of ruling this country?" Jean questioned with rising anger at the boy's ignorance.

"Jean dear, I was only implying that you are not capable of ruling the country alone," Duncan said with an uncomfortable gleam in his ice blue eyes. There was a piece of blond hair hanging on his forehead and Jean had the urge to rip it out and stuff it down his throat. Duncan approached Jean and she unconsciously backed away. It was that feeling again. That feeling where she felt something bad was going to happen. But this feeling was worse. Jean ran into a step and stopped before she fell forward……into Duncan's arms. A nightmare she did not intend on creating. He reached for her hand and pulled it forward quite harshly. He placed a quick kiss on it and smiled, as if nothing had happened. As if she was not going to take action for the things he said. "Although I am a guest here for another week, I shall be leaving for the time being. Until next time." She cringed at the thought of his presence here for another week. How was she supposed to live with him then if this was the case? At least it would give her time to make up for the missed dinner with him and his parents.

Jean brought her hand back to herself and wiped the mark on her dress. She watched him leave the room until she was secured he was out the door. When he finally left she bit her lip and shivered. There were more goose bumps on her arms now than when she thought about Kurtis Chagner.

Maybe Kurtis Chagner did have less evil in his bones than Duncan.

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Scott hurried to the library making sure he was not caught by anyone royal enough to eliminate him from their presence. Getting caught by the servants was another story. Jean had introduced him to all the servants and they accepted him and he enjoyed their presence. Especially Kitty. What Scott always questioned his conscience was how he could meet her servants but not her parents. Having heard and seen her mother many times he had a bad feeling about being introduced to her. He knew she would not approve of him.

Scott began to pick his legs up faster off the ground as he thought of Jean. He had not seen her for a week and it was driving him crazy. They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder and his heart was already fond. She was his best friend and a very intelligent person. She was beautiful from the inside and the outside. They had so much fun until the break of dawn a week ago when he had taken her to his family. She was more open minded than she seemed. They both had forgotten about Kurtis and enjoyed talking the whole night along with spending time with his parents, reading palms, and allowing Jean to play the tambourine for them. She even learned dancing the way they did with his mother as her teacher.

His parents had become quite fond of Jean and she had done the same. They would not stop laughing and enjoying each other's company. Jean seemed so intrigued when she heard the ancient stories that were passed down for decades that his mother and father had to tell. She made him promise her to take her there again and Scott was more than happy too. His time was not better spent without Jean and it would be great to spend time with her and his family at the same time. He only wished she could do the same.

Scott did not know what he was doing. He was following the words of his sub-conscience and his heart and it drove him crazy. She drove him crazy. He found himself thinking about his best friend all the time when he was not with her. He gave her a rose and found himself courting her in a way. He knew his feelings would grow overtime yet he did nothing to stop it. He knew there was no possible way that he could hang around with a beautiful girl all day with an extraordinary mind and a passion for living and not someday see her in a stronger light than he did when he was a little boy. But no doubt that he always saw her in a light, although it was not flaming as strong yet. But he knew his job was to keep quiet about his growing feelings before he causes an apocalypse. He would be living in an apocalypse he made for himself.

"Watch your step servant, or you will be shipped off to the Americas," a voice spoke with cruelty. The voice spoke almost louder than his own thoughts. Scott stopped to realize he had not taken cover in front of a high class citizen and ran into him instead. The good thing was that he thought Scott was a servant. "Look at me when I am talking to you!"

Scott jolted his head upwards and looked at the blond man hesitantly. "Sorry Sir…" Scott stuttered nervously. He did not know his name so he moved on with his sentence. "I did not see you……it will not happen again."

"Of course it won't happen again," the blond said bitterly as he stared at Scott with his cold blue eyes, "and you shall inform me properly as Sir Mathewette."

"Yes, Sir Mathewette," Scott said as he waited for Sir Mathewette to pass. Then he scurried off to the library to finally meet Jean. When he met her in the corner that they usually met in on these days he ran to her to spin her around. Jean started giggling. Scott loved to hear her laugh. He would do anything to hear her beautiful laugh.

Jean smiled at his nature and presence. "You are late," She scolded him with raised eyebrows and warning eyes. Scott always faltered when she lectured him. He loved when she told him to be prompt or to fix his pronunciation on a word.

"I'm sorry, I ran into someone," Scott said. "Someone I need for you to inform me on so I won't do it again. He thinks I am a servant."

"Well I do not know who you are talking about," Jean said as she lead him to a corner where books she had chose were stacked as usual. "You have to give me a description."

"He had blond hair, and blue eyes. He also had an unfriendly tone," Scott explained as he measured his height and watched Jean's face contort in a twisted manner. She must not like him.

"That is the boy that I am betr………" Jean paused at the sound of her words. The sound of the truth. She could not lie to Scott. But she could not tell him she was betrothed to an empty hearted human being. An empty hearted human being who is not equal nor fair, and cares much about his social status and the crown. "He is a very important friend of the family with his nose high in the sky."

Scott nodded with understanding and scooted closer towards her. She grabbed a book and placed it between their laps. Today was the day they would read their favorite books. Most of the time they would choose _Utopia_. It was one of their favorites. Scott began to read to her as she put her head on his shoulders. Jean listened quietly and looked at the words that he was reading carefully. Then she realized they were just words. "The author to this book is just an author, like every other author," Jean began.

"Yes, I presume that that's what all author's do. They write," Scott said vaguely. Jean shivered as she felt the rain pounding on the glass window above their heads. She felt warm against Scott's comforting side. His shoulder was like a comforting pillow to dig her cheek in.

"Yes, and only those people who are open-minded and understanding would read and understand the content of this book," Jean said.

"Like you and I," Scott continued.

Jean looked up at him and smiled. Then she placed her cheek on his shoulder, as it was. "But those who are not the adjectives that I stated would never understand the book. So what would be the point of reading it? The people who do read it and take in the words have a mind already set in the contents Thomas Moore proposes." Jean breathed her air from her nose and closed her eyes. "But words are but words. Nothing more."

"They are words that define the aspects in the life we live in," Scott reasoned.

"They are words that define the aspects of the life we only dream of living in. That is why Thomas Moore wrote a book about paradise, not reality," Jean said as Scott turned his head to her. He took in her words and smiled at her deep thinking. She understood what she read and questioned what could be.

"Jean?" Scott asked.

Jean's eyes were closed and her face was peaceful next to Scott. "Hmm?"

"Why are Queens not able to rule independently?" Scott asked.

"Because a woman is not always treated as equally as a man," Jean said, trying not to think of what Duncan said.

"So women and gypsies are the same," Scott began to whisper with thought.

"I suppose," Jean whispered back and continued quietly, "And two minds are better than one."

"I believe your mind is greater than two. With that you could rule the world."

"Scott?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Jean barely whispered.

Scott let out a whispered laugh. "The angel in my dreams does not know what she would do without me?"

Silence.

"Jean?" Scott questioned as he listened to her steady breathing. Her breathing was like music to his ears. So peaceful, so calm. Scott listened to the rain beating against the window and held Jean closer to him. He looked down at her red head and slipped both of them down a little so their heads were comfortable on the wooden wall. He placed a small, soundless kiss on the top of her head and whispered lightly, "Good night……angel of mine."

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Author's Note REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please review??


	6. Lightning, thunder, and a rainbow

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Chapter 6

Jean stared at her washed face in the mirror. She looked at it blankly for what seemed like the longest moments she ever lived. Years had passed and so had the seasons. Spring only blossomed once a year but it did so every year. No matter what changes in people's lives, spring would always be there to blossom. The roses would not change their colors and the sky would remain blue, covered with the clouds and touched by the sun. She was sixteen now and two years closer to her wedding.

She always thought a wedding should be about happiness and love. But to her, a wedding was going to be the sentence to her death. Jean brushed her hair quietly as she walked over to her window. She looked at the lightly blowing trees in the distance and wondered what they would say if they could speak. She also wondered why their branches were brown and their leaves were green and colored right now, in the autumn air. She wondered why gypsies were treated unequally when they were like everyone else, why she was betrothed to Duncan when marriage is about love, and why Kurtis Chagner spent time in the church if he did not have faith.

But Kurtis Chagner was the greatest mystery of all. Sometimes they would find him outside with a hat in his hand and they would not come near him. After the day of their encounter with Kurtis two years ago they decided to be sneaky and spy on him without being noticed, although Jean felt that he knew sometimes. Just as she feared her mother knew she went out with Scott all the time. But she feared her mother was beginning to take action. She was growing and able to pursue a romantic relationship whenever she wanted. Her mother could not risk that with two years until her and Duncan's wedding. Jean knew these things, yet could not abruptly leave her best friend behind.

She and Scott would take a visit to the cathedral alone every week to see Kurtis Chagner, but from afar. There were months where Kurtis Chagner was never there. They always questioned each other where he would be. But then they reminded themselves of Kurtis' sister, the Rogue. They had not seen her yet. The solution to that was that she needed light and food now and then and could not retrieve those things alone. But a solution is not necessarily the truth. People invented solutions to rid themselves of fear. Fear of the unknown. Humans always wanted answers, when life answered them in ways they did not realize. Time is one element that answered their questions. Sometimes time would make the questions they asked years before not important in the present.

When she was nine she asked what betrothed meant. Now she asked what love is. When she was fourteen she asked what this man named Duncan was all about. Now she wished to see Scott and no one else. When she was twelve she brought hatred in when she spoke of gypsies. Now she could not understand the people in her home and wished for the home Scott had. One week does not go by without Jean visiting Scott and his family. When she arrived her soul was overjoyed and her green eyes were bright. When she departed her tears made their way into her dim green eyes.

She watched the sun behind the trees and wondered when Scott would arrive. Today was one of those days when they would watch Kurtis from afar. They would watch him doing nothing harmful or questioning. They never had the bravery to see him uncover his face beneath his hood. But somehow she felt today was the day where she had to see Kurtis' face. No more fear. Although she knew it would not come true. Her desires, her outlooks on life would never come true. Scott would always tell her that she would soon be queen and have the ability to make her beliefs reality. But she knew it would not. Not with Duncan by her side. But she still smiled at Scott's support.

He was the Scott she knew when he was with her. But when he was with her Grandfather or his parents he seemed stone-like. He made sure his duties were fulfilled and his love shown not with words, but gestures. He learned how to parry from his father and no doubt he was the next leader in line for the gypsies. Yet they did not discriminate against him because he was not of their blood. Jean knew that when he becomes leader, it will be because he is qualified for the job. Not for the reasons of blood relation. Not because he was the heir to royal blood like in the past, some half-wit stated that you are of royal blood, like her family.

She wanted to think some more because she believed a person's mind is the greatest thing humans possess. But she knew that if she went any further she would be in her room all day. So where was Scott? Had he forgotten? Surprised at her fast beating heart, Jean licked her dry lips and started to tap her fingers lightly against the window sill. What if he had left without her? What if he had decided it was too dangerous for her and left by himself? How could he do that to her? He knew she was capable of anything he could do.

With that in mind, Jean quickly threw the rope that laid on the floor out the window. She made sure her dress was untouched as she climbed down and grabbed the rope to hide it behind the bushes. She wiped her hands together and ran to find a horse. When she found Scott she would be sure to show him a piece of her mind. He knew she had a fiery temper and he needed to watch out when she was mad, yet he went ahead and made her angry.

He would see.

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The sounds of high pitched screaming rang through the smoke filled air. The fire burst it's sparks upon the innocent people around it. It ate up everything in it's path, blind of who was there. It swallowed hard without leaving any crumbs behind. The sight burned their eyes and the smoke filled their lungs. Men ran to their women and women ran to their young.

He rubbed his blue eyes stained with red lines from the smoke filling the air. He struggled to see his surroundings but he maintained his hearing abilities. He heard the screams of his people. The footsteps of fear. He felt the heat of the fire upon the side of his face and covering his eyes. He opened his eyes slightly to try and see who was on the horse that he heard the footsteps of. All he saw was a man with a hood over his head. Was the horse white or brown? Was the sky gray or white? He did not know, for he could not see.

"My baby, please stop!!!" a woman cried as he heard her footsteps running towards her child.

"Silence woman!" a high and unmerciful voice spoke. He heard a torch move through the air and screech to the dirt covered ground. He felt straw beneath his feet and quickly, yet quietly, hunched his back forward and scattered away from the straw. He felt the brick covered ground on the deserted area over the fresh dirt again and breathed a sigh of relief. He would not surrender for the sake of his people. But he needed to try and open his eyes. He _had_ to open his eyes. But did he really need eyes to see? He knew death and destruction in his ears, in his heart.

Chains were wrapped around men's wrists and crushed upon their backs. His back had felt something behind it. He turned around and kneeled to the floor to feel and smell what lay there, in front of him. He heard the sounds of whispering cries. Soft, whispering cries. The loud cries seemed like a whisper in the cold autumn air full of disaster and hatred.

He felt the soft caress of tender skin. His eyebrows knitted together furiously. He caressed his hand over the body and made sure it was whole. He sighed relief from his heart and slipped his hand under the head of the baby. He swallowed stale saliva down his throat and made sure the baby's body was lightly lifted off the ground. He lightly wiped away the ash from the blanket the baby was bundled into. He made sure to hold the baby close to his chest. Goose bumps filled his body with coldness. He felt the need to escape as far as he could and never return. But he knew he had duties to fulfill, people to care for and help. His people. His family.

He felt the baby's cries and escaping breath through the heart beats of his finger. He was there to give the baby shelter and health. But the only question lingering in the cold gray air was, where was he supposed to go for shelter and health?

There was no where to run to.

He felt nothing but the cold breeze bump past his shaking body and rain shower down upon him.

Thunder echoing in the distance.

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Her flannel dress floated across the cold floor. She held her heeled shoes in her hands and listened quietly with her ears. She was not waiting to hear the footsteps of Scott's but of Kurtis. Scott was nowhere in sight inside the church. Yet Jean still did not know why she was investigating this alone. She felt she needed to know the truth. She felt she could not know the truth when she was not in silence. Silence brought peace and warmth to her soul, which made her look past appearances.

Her alone met the gypsies. With Scott and his family, not her family and her. She could not have really gotten to know the gypsies if she was not in silence and peace with herself. She let her heart decide and her brain speak. Her eyes did not do the talking if they could not look past a person's pupil, and tour the inner circle.

Jean suddenly saw the circle of his shadow across the empty benches. She had never followed Kurtis into this room where people assembled for church on Sundays. She just felt secure with people around, although they were silent, praying. Jean put her hands together and closed her eyes. She whispered a small prayer and realized she had come in here because of fear. Fear of what she did not know. Fear of the shadow across from the gray stone pole she was hiding behind. She peered her head out to see the tips of a hood lean back against the stone pole across the room.

Jean's breath began to pace and she creased her eyebrows at what just happened. Jean and Scott had grown and experienced many new things supporting their maturity, but nothing could take away the fear they had of Kurtis Chagner and his unseen sister Rogue. Nothing. There was something about his story that made them shudder. The parts where he is supposedly a devil, his sister and him murdering their mother, and him chopping people's heads off. They presumed it had many things to do with that. On that day, they did not remember the salesman but those of who he spoke of. Who is the salesman for them to believe him anyways? But she knew she had to see his eyes to know, like she sees Scott's eyes and knows. Or feel his presence like she feels the presence of God in a church or Heaven when she closes her eyes.

Jean closed her eyes at that moment for strength. She peered her head out once again to find that he was not in sight. Was he hiding from the people who did not seem to notice him in the church or was he hiding from her? Jean shrugged the thought off when she saw a shadow stretch towards her white dress. Jean started to whisper low prayers at a faster speed now. She gasped quietly as she felt fingertips brush her hand and words whispered. Words that sounded like mumbling. "I am going to burn you," the words spoke in a bass sound.

Jean struggled to get free of his grasp and found it simple this time. She was much older and wiser now. She felt carved skin scratch against hers and ran to the other side of the pole to keep her distance. She peeked her eyes out to find an empty space. _Oh no_, Jean thought horrifyingly, _where is he?_ She let out her breath that she did not realize she was holding. She hurriedly grabbed a candle from the candle holders on the stone wall and ran to the nearest steps she could find. She ran up the steps and into an open door, closing it behind her as she walked in. She found herself in a dark pitched room, with only the candle showing her one tall candle holder with three attached to it, standing next to a small wooden rod. She could not see what was to the side of the room. It was pitch black.

She heard the rain pounding against the tiny window atop of her head. Lightning streaked across the sky and she shut her eyes for fear of seeing him and being helpless. Thunder rumbled in her bones and she shuddered. She got down to the ground and held the candle close to her. She covered the flame with her closed fingers and folded hand.

The door suddenly creaked open and closed all in one second. Jean's breathing got heavy and fearful as it blew out the candle in front of her. Jean dropped the candle with her shaking fingers. She let out a surprised gasp and quickly covered her mouth. She heard footsteps approaching as she acted on instinct and began to crawl to the corner near the small window high on the wall. "I am going to burn you," the voice said closer this time as the sound of the fire burning on the torch was heard. Jean bit her lip hard and swallowed with a tight throat. She shut her eyes harder when she felt light upon them and the sound of the fire close. "I am going to burn you," he said with a higher pitched voice this time.

Jean dug her face in her knees and placed her hands over her head. "PLEASE MOUSIER CHAGNER!!! Don't burn me! Have mercy! This is a church for God's sake!" Jean cried between a cracked voice. Kurtis let out small breaths as he watched the girl rock herself back and forth. He held the torch over her head and let out his other hand as if to summon an unknown force. Jean squeezed her hands harder together and waited. The torch felt nearer as she felt the heat of the fire on the surface of her skin.

She began to think of all the things she could accomplish in life. She saw her thoughts flash through her in seconds. Maybe Scott was right, maybe she could change and rule a country on her own. Maybe with Scott beside her she could accomplish anything. What if she never gets to show Duncan and her parents that she is more than a pretty face? What if she never experiences the feelings of love and pain that would make her stronger? There was only one life you could live and time does not care for the concept much. It expects humans to take advantage of it on their own will. Would she be able to support an ideal Utopian society? Would she ever hold a baby in her arms? Would she ever excel in learning how to read people's expressions? Would she be able to save another bird's nest? Would she ever be able to tell Scott how fond she was of him inside and out? Would she ever be able to tell him how much she loved him? Wait…… what did she just think?

Jean's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of fire swinging through the air. A banging sound rung in her ears and she flinched. She was definitely dead. Jean felt her skin beneath her fingers. She heard her hard breathing and fast beating heart in her ears and throat. The torch had swung past her and onto a rusty metal holder above her head. "I am not going to hurt you. I am not going to hurt you," the voice repeated loud and clear for the first time ever. The words he spoke were not as she had heard. They were kind and gentle. For the first time, the words were not mumbled. They rang loud and clear in her ear for her to realize he meant no harm.

Jean opened her terrified green eyes slowly and looked up through her folded arms. She saw the dark hooded figure standing over her with his two hands in each other's sleeves. He began to walk rapidly to the corner on the other side of the wall Jean had been hiding against. She lifted her head slowly with an enclosed mouth. She could not move it or open it for lack of speech. What was she supposed to say to the odd and mysterious man she had finally had an encounter with after two years? So many questions, so little time to think. So she just watched.

Kurtis had already lit a candle with the fire from the torch. Jean had failed to notice that beautiful candle lit when he walked in the room. It was right in front of her yet not visible to her blind eyes. But now she made sure to use them wisely. She watched some more. She watched as Kurtis held the candle with his hidden hand very tenderly. It seemed as if he couldn't hurt a fly. Jean wondered how he ever had the heart to murder his mother?

The candles lined up to the side of the wall were lit dimly which brought a warm glow to the room. Jean's white dress looked as if it were made of snow and she took the time to appreciate that. The light of the candles and the presence of the Mousier gave her the feeling of worship to the rain still beating harshly against the window. She watched slowly and waited until he calmly finished lighting all the candles to both sides of the wall. He paced over to Jean with his back hunched. Jean did not blink or take her stare away from him. She watched as he let out his shaking hand. Jean watched his figure beam over her and knew she had to do it.

She was not afraid. Not anymore. So she placed her delicate fingers, the middle one wrapped with white string that came from the sleeve of the dress, into his touch. She allowed him to lead her as she made her way up from the floor. She kept her eyes on him and her mouth closed with a straight line. Her eyes were anticipating everything happening to her at this moment.

He grabbed a freshly lit candle and led her over to the candles on the stands of three that had not been lit yet. He held her wrists with his shaking fingers and moved to the back of her. She followed his lead and rotated her hands with him. She lit the candles slowly and quietly. After she was done walking over to all the stands, with Kurtis behind her, they both stopped. He placed his hands to the side of her face and tilted it upright. Jean watched the candle's flame burning in her eyes and never looked away. She closed her eyes to see red. She felt Kurtis' voice from the back speak quietly.

"A candle's light does not only burn one color."

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The rain pounded against the fire, fire overpowering the strength of the rain. The fire burned the wood and straw covered on the ground around them. It burned the children and it even captured the strong-willed. He stumbled from his own feet while running away from the cowering horse behind him. He felt one sword after another hit the ground as he tried to dodge them. He flipped himself over so he fell on his back with the baby still in his arms, safe and sound. Scott coughed from the smoke in the air barely opening his eyes. He struggled to see what was in front of him. Yet he still heard the baby's cries in his ears. When he heard the cries he headed into a carriage he had just noticed hidden behind the smoke. The horse's master growled with anger as the horse backed away from the smoke.

"Scott!" his mother's voice spoke wisely yet in fear and slight panic. She breathed a sigh of relief as she kissed his forehead and looked at the baby. Scott's hope flourished at the sound of his mother and so did his eyes. The smoke was slightly gone and he made sure to look at his mother long enough for his eyes to fill with happiness.

"Mother! Thank God you are safe," Scott said as he bent his head slightly towards her. "Her mother was slaughtered."

"Your father has been injured and then captured. Scott, I fear that this is the worse attack that I have seen yet."

"Why do they do this Mother?!?"

Fire began to fill the wooden carriage as Scott grabbed his mother by her arm and escorted her out of the carriage from the other side with the baby in his arms. Scott landed with his feet on the ground, baby to his chest, as Ororo fell forward, her forehead pounding the ground. Her eyes shut and her lungs filled with smoke. Scott held the baby tightly in his arms as he watched his mother. He tried to be brave as he kept his emotions inside. But he knew it was hopeless when he watched the fire surround the middle of the temporary home of the gypsies as the smoke seemed to get higher and higher. Sparks flew and smoke filled the air. The fire began to make it's way towards them. "Mother, your hand," Scott whispered more to himself than to his unconscious mother. He let out his hand to grab hers. Yet he did not feel her touch. Instead, he felt his body thrown forward, inches from the fire. He moaned with pain as his back felt like it had broken the hard ground.

The baby had fallen from his arms at the surprised attack of the man who was still following him. He would not sleep on his pillow until he got rid of Scott. But Scott struggled to let himself up and not give in, yet all he managed to do was get on his knees and take a breath with his palms pressed to the ground. He tried to keep the pain in his back off of his mind, yet he could not get it off his body. The fire began to make it's way into the five senses of his body. He looked up to find a hand grabbing his mother's and lifting her hurt body up to her feet. Her body was limp and leaned back against the front of the man's body as he placed her on his horse and chained her wrists together. He held the sword out to place it with roughness against the middle of Scott's neck. Scott quickly jolted back. He turned it into a painful back flip, forgetting about his hurt back, and landed on his feet. The man, dressed as their leader, uncovered his hood.

His face had familiarity with Scott's eyes. Had he seen this man before. He could not see him clearly through the smoke but Scott knew the hooded man could recognize him through it. All Scott could see was piercing blue eyes and golden hair covered with a little bit of ash. He could never forget the stare the ice blue eyes were giving him at that moment. So much hatred and prejudice. Something dark to his soul as if it's purpose in life was to hunt. The word perfect was defined differently to every person. Perfect to this man did not include a society with gypsies as citizens.

The man revealed a dagger beneath his black cape and aimed it towards the helpless baby Scott had no time to get to, lying on the ground. He took advantage of Scott's distracted eyes and heart to hold out his sword to Scott's chin. The man laughed at the non-living baby. "If you start when they are young, they won't be a problem when they are older," he said as he rotated the sword to the side of Scott's chin. "Gypsies were put on this earth to be eliminated and make those great even greater," the blond man said gruffly. "Stealing is a crime. Reading palms is a myth. And dancing is a fairytale. Life is reality and your death is truth." The sword pulled his chin up as Scott kept his jaw line tightened and his face showing no fear or any kind of emotion. "Good-bye."

Scott kept eye contact with the slightly blurry man's iceberg eyes. Everything became blurry to his worn blue eyes. He realized life had not given him many chances that he took advantage of. He had not even had the chance to say good-bye to the woman that he loved. Jean would be heart broken. But Scott witnessed Heaven's light appear before his own eyes. It was not his time to say good-bye for a miracle had saved his life.

What kind of miracle? He knew not. He tried to take in everything that was happening at the moment while he worried about his parents and his people. He tried to watch a sword, with a mysterious and hidden owner, that was back to back on the leader's sword. It carved his thumb slightly as the leader yelled out with anger. Scott noticed the crowned symbol on the top of his blouse. It had a crown with two swords placed through it. The leader saw the fire filling the area more rapidly and ignored his battle. He hopped on his horse with Ororo placed on the back, and rode away. _Mother!!! _Scott's heart, that was now in his throat, exclaimed with pain. His strength became weakness and his heart frail. He was helpless. He dropped to his knees and bent his head forward with sadness to be face to face with the burning ground.

A cold hand suddenly touched his arm through his torn beige blouse. Scott gasped and looked up to find no one. An empty space. _What?_ he asked himself. But all his questions disappeared from his mind when he felt the fire burning deep within his skin. He had to get out, but how? He was surrounded and trapped by fire and burning flames.

He envisioned the sight of his scattering people fleeing from the unmerciful soldiers and his parents taken away from him. With that in mind he leaped through the flames and felt his body gasp fire and exhale smoke. His voice did not let out one whisper. Nothing. He kept the pain and bruises inside. No one ever saw him cry. No one could ever see him helpless. His people needed him to be strong-willed and wise for them.

After he leaped out of the two seconds in the fire he ran. He ran straight until he felt the cold rain splash against his burning skin and clothes. He had to help his people, so he kept running. He was lost in the middle of the chaotic crowd when his hurt back could not handle anymore.

He fell to his knees in defeat to his body. He heard his heart beating at a full speed and horses footsteps leaving. The soldiers left when the fire increased. People's voices were still booming as they looked for their young and their husbands and wives. Scott sighed with relief but gasped at the pain in his back. He placed his tight fists on the ground to contain his pain. If the future leader of his people could not handle pain and could not be there for them, then who will they have left?

They would not have the king and queen, for they do not take care of all of their people. They lived in France, yet were an outcast to their own country. Who would be there for them?

He had to be strong.

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She slapped her feet against the horse to make it run faster. The horse sped up it's legs that were dug into the soil of the woods. But Jean was aiming for a destination past the woods. A place behind many trees and mounds of soil. To the gypsies temporary home. They would move from home to home but always the same people again and again. Jean was eager to tell Scott what happened with her, after she gave him a piece of her mind for not coming to her.

Jean whipped the horse with her legs one more time to speed it up when she felt herself rise half-way in the air. She slipped off her horse and hit her side in the edged branch of a tree. She stumbled on the dirt covered ground and felt an aching pain in her side as she moaned and watched her horse escape from the smoke in the air. She covered her mouth and began to cough. She heard loud screaming, chaotic people's feet running. What was happening? Was there some kind of war that she did not know about going on?

Jean pulled herself up and dared to open her eyes. She took a deep breath and opened her green eyes to the world around her. Flames sprouted in the distance as she swallowed hard. She began to pick up her feet and run past the trees and leaves as they became a blur to her. When she felt brick beneath her feet she stopped. Her shoulders breathing up and down and her body frozen.

She felt a wave of pain wash over her. She knew something was wrong. Something was wrong with Scott. She felt his heart pounding. She felt her heart pounding. She felt the rain pounding against her stringy red hair. She tilted her face back to feel the raindrops waking her from her dreams and caressing her skin.

People who were running past her slowed down as the rain came down harder and helped a little with the fire. They began to slow down when they found their loved ones. Jean's heart began to slow down when she found her loved one.

He was on his knees in the middle of the road covered with smoke and fire on each end. Disaster of broken wooden carriages and stages. Her heart sank when she saw him helpless on his knees. So she began to walk. One foot in front of the other.

Scott saw white before his eyes. He knew who it was. He could not let her see him like this. So he kept his head down as he watched the rain wash across the ground. Light thunder rumbled within the earth as Scott shivered when he felt her touch.

Jean had crouched on two knees, inches away from him, and placed her hands around the sides of his face. She touched his skin so tenderly and lifted it to meet her eyes. Jean's eyes had to blink back tears at the pain she saw in his eyes. For the first time ever, she had seen him helpless and weary. She let out a breath she had been holding and slowly entered his blue eyes.

Scott's heart melted when she allowed herself to enter his eyes at that moment. He saw her wince at the pain and sorrow. He tried to hold back the tears, but he couldn't. They escaped his eyes and synchronized with the rain falling onto his heated face. One more look into Jean's warm green eyes made him explode. To his surprise, sobs began to escape through his mouth.

He closed his eyes as Jean pulled him close to her and he cried into her collarbone. He placed his limp arms around her back as she cupped the back of his head with her fingers. He did not make a gesture to free himself of her arms and Jean held on tightly and never let go. He inhaled her flowering scent and felt the rain upon her skin. What a relief to smoke filled lungs. They began to rock each other back and forth as Jean shut her eyes and placed her cheek upon his wet hair. Tears streamed down her face as they both felt their bodies shaking, still rocking each other back and forth.

Noises settled down around them and voices were heard in the back, but no words. Fire surrounded the place. Yet all Jean and Scott felt was rain.

Scott held on tighter to her and got lost. He never made his way back, for he was lost. No one had ever seen him cry, no one. Except for Jean.

Scott let go of his bravery and allowed his tears to flood his face and Jean's upper chest. They ran down his hot face as his sobs increased. They both held each other in their arms and rocked to and fro.

They just rocked each other, as if there was no tomorrow.

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Author's Note I need to taste the beauty of reviews. Feed me! My seventh chapter is already finished. But I won't post it until I hear ideas, comments, intelligent responses from outspoken words and thoughts. Please……I need to know if my readers are enjoying every moment in my story and if it's powerful enough for them. By-the-way, Kurtis (Kurt) is more like the movie and comic Kurt than Evolution Kurt. I know! But he would probably become like that if he grew older in Evolution……


	7. Ash behind smoke and a gentle light

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Chapter 7

The night sky had passed over them and morning had come. The sun was shining brightly and the fire left bruises behind. The sound of silence would only ring in the ears of the deaf. But to those who did not hear, but listened, would know moans and small cries lingering in the clearing air. The air that had been covered with smoke just the night before.

Jean raced from person to person on the blankets pulled together to make one. She aided anyone who she heard moan or even sigh. She tried to do as much as she could do at once. She opened the cap to the wooden bottle of water and poured it down the thirsty and coughing man before her. She embraced young children with bandages and wine, she managed to retrieve from the things left over on the territory, for those wounded with bad bruises, scars, and cuts. She looked at a boy who was about twelve years old laying on the blankets Scott and her had put over the ground as beds. She knelt down to him in her filthy and torn white dress. She wrapped his swollen red and blue cut hand in a bandage after she had done her best to heal it. She did not dare to look into the eyes of the boy. Instead she moved her green eyes carefully to where Scott was. Across from her lifting broken objects off of helpless people.

She watched Scott lift it with strength and energy and winced at the pain she knew he felt in his back. But what was she supposed to say to him? She had never experienced pain such as that, she could not say it was alright. She had never experienced an attack such as this, how could she say it was alright? She caught Scott's eyes as he caught her stare and did not move away. He gave her a reassuring look in his eyes with no expression on his face. But Jean knew. She watched him lean an old woman on his shoulders and hold his head strong as their leader. She knew he was capable of being a brave leader. _It is going to be alright_, Jean found herself mouthing the words with her lips as Scott blinked twice at the words he heard loud and clear.

He watched as Jean aided the helpless people he knew and loved. He did not know what he would do without her. What kind of heart this girl possessed, he knew not. But what he did know is that it is made of the clouds from Heaven. He let out a silent sigh as he carefully set the woman on one of the sheets Jean and him had set up on the ground. He looked around and found very few people who were uninjured helping those who were. Him, Jean, and the very few who were uninjured spent the rest of the night saving those in the midst of the fire and injured by what the fire had damaged. There were many who they were not able to save and many who had been captured and taken away. His parents.

Scott had not wanted to let go of Jean. He wanted to stay in her arms forever. In there it was warm and soothing. So safe and quiet. Away from reality and into a painting. But he knew he had to break away for his people. They needed him. He had backed away from her with a tear streaked face and met her green eyes. They both choked back sobs as reality once again suffocated them. Without a word they had lifted each other off the ground and spent the entire night building what the soldiers had broken and destroyed. The rain helped with the fire and so did they. But first and far most was to help the people, in which they were still doing this morning.

When Jean had found time to ask him she did. She held onto his wrist and gripped it tenderly. "Where's Logan?" Jean had asked as she swallowed hard. "Ororo?" But Scott just ignored her. "Scott, where are Logan and Ororo? Where are they? Where are they Scott?" Jean's innocent questions rang in his ears like a high-pitched sound of a bell. He turned away from her and looked straight ahead. All he had said in reply was, "As if animals were taken away in a cage. A cage. A prison."

Someone suddenly grabbed Scott's hand to interrupt his thoughts. Scott suddenly remembered the mysterious person who had rescued his life. The only thing he could remember seeing was a sword against his enemy's sword and the feel of a cold hand. He looked down, not to find a person capable of saving his life, but an old woman. Her wrinkled skin and tired black eyes touched Scott with a dry feel. He gave her water as she started to cough. But she threw the bottle of water back at him. Scott backed his head away and knitted his eyebrows curiously at the woman.

"Let me die," the old woman said as she barely bent her fingers to make a fist and coughed into them. Scott's forehead lines deepened as he listened intently. "Let me die." Scott was left speechless. "God will give me another chance. God will give us all another chance." Scott breathed deeply at her words and watched as she shut her eyes, wrinkles forming around her eyes. Her deep tanned complexion seemed to fade in the beating sun. Her shaking old hands rested on her stomach as her breathing began to lessen. "Let me die," she whispered as Scott reacted to the sound he heard screaming. He got up and scurried over to the woman screaming loudly with fear and sorrow.

He looked at Jean, who was already sitting next to the woman, trying to calm her down with soothing words. He bent down to the woman swinging from left to right. The side of her neck and a little of her face was burned from the fire. He cringed at the sight and creased his eyebrows, not knowing what was wrong. He listened to Jean's soothing words and tried to come in with his own but was too late.

The woman began to scream and cry at the same time. "WHERE'S MY CHILD?!?!?!" she exclaimed with helplessness. "THEY TOOK MY CHILD!!! WHERE'S MY CHILD?!?! THEY MURDERED MY CHILD!!! WHERE'S MY CHILD?!? HE'S GONE!!!" she exclaimed and screamed and cried with hurt dripping in her voice. "She's gone, she's gone, she's gone, she's gone," she muttered as she fell back on the sheets and cried with anger and emptiness.

But all Jean and Scott could do was watch. Her child was dead. Slaughtered. He had never had a child to know the feeling of loosing one, he could not say it was alright. He looked over to Jean who was watching the woman with a scrunched face and helpless eyes. But she was there. He turned to face the woman lying on the ground crying as he whispered lightly.

"It is going to be alright."

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"No one seems to know where she has been all night," one of the countesses whispered lightly to her daughter as she made sure the queen's back was turned. Queen Elaine pretended not to hear when that was all she could hear. People began to talk about her daughter's whereabouts when she had already informed them that her father had taken her out. She had requested from him not to come to Church today and he had agreed after a little argument.

She knew her people were talking about whom her daughter might be with through the night and what she was doing. She had warned Jean that her actions had consequences when she was royal. Her business was everyone's business. She could not understand why Jean could not accept that fact. People were talking about how she might not be pure for her husband. How she was a whore and a secretive prostitute. Maybe they should talk about her that way. For all Queen Elaine knew, she could very well be all of those things.

But as a queen of France she could not go gallivanting off, looking for her daughter. They had told her the soldiers could not carry out her request to retrieve her daughter because they were taking care of official business with people who did not obey the law. So Queen Elaine had just left it to herself to deal with her daughter when she came home, which she was sure would happen.

She thought she had told the servant girl, Kathy or what not, to take good care of her and where she was. But she did not have to ask anyone where she was, for she knew. It was time to take matters a little more seriously. No more games. Her betrothal, reputation, and future ruling of France depended on it.

Queen Elaine looked straight forward at the cross in the front of the church, up the red carpeted stairs and towards the glass tainted windows. She blinked twice with impatience and waited for the time to pass to go back to her palace and deal with her daughter. It was better than listening to the priest. She respected him, no doubt, but how could she even know what words meant when she did not understand them?

"How could a princess, much less a woman act the way she is acting? She has no morals," she heard a woman two rows behind her whisper lightly. She did not deny the words they were speaking. They were right. Her daughter had no morals.

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Hours after hours passed and the orange and pink sun melted into the ground behind the hills. The gentle light shown upon the river, which glistened like gold. Jean leaned on the swell of her hip with her knees bent beneath her. She rested her left leg beneath her right, her torn white dress flowing over them. She rested her palm on the earth's surface and glanced at Scott's bare back as she dipped a clean rag in the bucket of water she had retrieved from the river. She listened to the comfortable silence and breathed in relaxation. She listened to the gentle flow of the river running downwards against and over the boulders.

After a day's work of helping their people Jean had brought Scott down to the river to tend to his cuts, bruises, and hurt back. Scott did not want to be seen hurt by his people and Jean wanted to take care of him. His bare white back was painted with dry blood and a small burn in the middle. Jean lightly touched the burn in the middle of his back. She ran the very tips of her fingers over it as she felt goose bumps form beneath her fingers.

A rush of warmth ran through him. Her touch was so gentle, so soft. He laid upon the brown earth and laid the side of his face on his folded arms beneath him. He was turned the other way, when what he really wanted to do was look at Jean's face. To just place her in front of him and look at her. He wanted to taste her, to embrace her. Only Jean could see him like this. Hurt and helpless. He closed his blue eyes as he felt cool water against his skin that he was aching to jump out of.

She lightly tapped the rag against his skin. All she had was water at the moment. The alcohol and wine was used by the others who were injured. Jean wished she could tend to his needs more properly, but this was all she could do at the moment. They were both feeling sorrow, especially him, for loosing Ororo and Logan. But the least they had was each other. That was what they would mend the broken with for now.

Jean blinked back glistening eyes and sat back to stare. She stared at his bruised, yet soft back. Her legs were away from his body while her head was beaming over his back. She moved the rag up as it traced drops of water upon his dry white skin. She did not hear a peep out of Scott. She admired his bravery. To rule a country was one thing, but to live in it was another. He held in his pain for his people. She unconsciously found herself caressing her fingers through his hair. She felt him shiver at her touch when the autumn air was as warm as the summer air was.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked with a cracked whisper. But Scott was silent. He knew what the truth was. She _was_ hurting him. Hurting him emotionally by touching him the gentle way she did when he knew she would never be his. His feelings and thoughts were speaking all at once. But his thoughts were interrupted as she began to move the rag to where the bruises and cuts were, tapping the rag lightly with repeated movement. When she was done she brushed his chestnut hair away from his face and motioned for him to get up with her hands. He was going insane.

She picked up the roll of white cloth off the ground next to her to wrap around him. She began from where the cuts began, mid-way on his back. She held the piece of cloth with her finger as she brought it around the front and towards the back again. Every time her hand would go around his stomach, filled with abs, he could feel her breath on the skin of his back. His mind was taken over with her touch and her presence. Scott thought about what love could do when love happened to people. He suddenly felt dizzy and aroused with desire. When did his feeling grow so strong for his best friend?

Jean could smell his scent through her whole body. He smelled like the earth and felt so warm, as if she was touching a piece of the sun. Only a piece. If only she could have the sun as a whole. Her finger lightly brushed the front of his chest while she was wrapping the bandage around it. She felt his body tense. Her reaction was to close her eyes and feel the warmth of the sun across her face. She did not want the bandage to end it's roll. But it did. So she tied it in a double knot lightly and gave a small smile. She placed a small kiss on the top of his back as she heard Scott take in a deep sigh. She wanted him to turn around so she could look at his face. But she just laid her cheek against the skin on the top of his back.

Scott made sure this moment lasted forever. He looked at the setting sun and the dim sky. It was getting dark, but stars were coming out. "Jean," Scott whispered lightly as he turned his head to the side. Jean was silent. But before he could approach his next sentence correctly a man was seen at the top of the pathway full of leaves and surrounded by trees.

"It is a miracle," the man, Jean knew was a friend of Scott's said joyfully. "Ororo is alright. She is safe. She is with us."

Jean and Scott both jumped up and looked at each other. Scott let out his hand for her to put it in his and they both scurried towards their people. No matter how many questions ran through their heads, the important thing was that one very important person had been saved.

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Queen Elaine exited the church with her poised posture. She looked straight ahead and smiled politely at everyone leaving the church. Her head was held high and her position was royal. She floated down the steps as someone came running towards her.

The well-built man had black hair and deep blue eyes. He was quite masculine with large muscular arms and a bulging chest. He dropped to his knees and touched the queens feet. "Get on your feet Sir," Queen Elaine said with curious eyes. The man obeyed slightly. He got on his knees and put his hands together with pleading eyes.

"Queen Elaine, you must do something about it," he said eagerly.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Hank McCoyman," the man said solemnly.

"Yes, what do you need from me?" Queen Elaine asked as everyone who had crowded around them listened intently. Queen Elaine looked down upon him as he tried to find the right words to speak.

"You have to stop what they are doing in the Americas!" Hank cried.

Queen Elaine let out a little laugh as she covered her small gloved hand over it. She looked over the crowd and then back at the odd man. "And what exactly do I have to stop?"

"The English, the French, the Irish, the Spanish and everyone or anyone who is depriving the natives of their land!" Hank exclaimed. "It is unruly and selfish!"

"I am sorry," Queen Elaine spoke with enthusiasm, "but we cannot do anything about it."

"I am a scientist and I have discovered some of the words of their language," Hank spoke quickly. "It is quite fascinating. But I have found that they are unhappy of the destruction of their land and invasion of their people."

"There is simply no solution to that," Queen Elaine said with an apologetic voice and shrugged it off. She began to walk back to her carriage as Hank followed after them saying word after word.

"You are the queen of the country. You could send them all back………make a compromise with the other royals of other countries………provide homes for the natives…………trade with them instead of overtaking them………learn more of their culture……" Hank babbled as the queen got in her carriage. "EVOLUTION IS NOT FAR!" he yelled back with his hands flinging the air. "Soon, the king and queen of the country will become something different as evolution takes it's course," he whispered lightly with a sigh as he watched the carriage ride away in the distance.

The scene that had just happened disappearing from her mind as if it was as simple as breathing.

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Jean and Scott ran. They ran to her. The leaves crunched beneath their feet as they ran to a half-burnt carriage Ororo was sitting in it with a bottle of water in her hands. When she saw them running towards her the wooden bottle made a noise as it dropped to the floor. She let out her arms to embrace them both warmly. Jean wished her mother could embrace her in her own arms, if even for a small second. She leaned her head into Ororo's shoulders and felt like crying. She closed her eyes and smelled the smoke on Ororo's clothes. Which was like the scent of flower to her right now.

Ororo kissed the tops of their heads as Scott smiled upon Heaven that had sent him a miracle. A mother was a miracle within herself. Scott looked over to Jean who had her eyes closed and her heart open. He wanted to keep the picture of her now in his head forever. She looked so peaceful, so fulfilled. Scott escaped his mother's arms for fear of too much sentiment. He looked upon his mother's face with joy. He picked up the bottle of water that she had dropped and popped the cap open. He gave her water with his hands touching the bottle lightly and gently. She smiled at him and answered so kindly with beautiful words. "Thank you son. I only wish I could thank my mysterious rescuer. But the mysterious person had disappeared so suddenly and I was just regaining consciousness."

Scott knitted his eyebrows as he listened to his mother. Something unusual suddenly caught Scott's eyes as he was taking in the surroundings of his home, although burnt. A black cape blew from behind a tree a few feet away. Scott's eyes were fixated on it. He hopped down from the carriage as he heard silence behind him as to what he was doing. A few seconds later he heard someone hop lightly off the carriage also. He automatically knew Jean was behind him.

They both slowly neared the tree, fearful of what may be hidden behind it. Scott turned to Jean who seemed unfearful. Her eyes looked as if they had experienced something equal to this. Scott and Jean turned to the other side of the tree and saw a black cape filled with something inside that was in a heap. Scott realized it was a person inside when he saw the black cape shaking. He placed his hand upon what looked like an arm beneath the cape. Scott's touch was gentle and welcoming, but the cold person would not come out from under their hood.

Jean took action and brought the large hood down slowly to reveal wide gray eyes. They were scared, but kind gray eyes. The woman's knees were pulled up to her chin and she was shivering wildly. She was covered in gray and black from head to toe, except for her face and hair. She was beautiful. She had long, thick, dark brown locks flowing down her back and across her shoulders. Her creamy pale face looked like porcelain. Her lips were plump and painted red rose. Jean felt a twinge of jealousy when she caught Scott slightly staring.

The mysterious woman looked back and forth from Jean to Scott with shivering lips. "Do not worry Madam. You are safe here," Scott said kindly as Jean let out her hand. It was two minutes of silence until the woman put her hand in Jean's. She was lightly brought to her feet with her bent down and her eyes glued to the ground.

"What is your name?" Jean asked politely. The woman did not seem to understand her. She did not seem as if she knew the language.

So they waited. They waited until a small peep and scared voice spoke with a whisper, "Rogue."

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Author's Note I hope you liked that little cameo of Beast (Hank McCoy). I am always inspired by songs for my stories and this chapter was inspired by the songs, "Someday We'll Know" by Mandy Moore and Jonathan Foreman, and "Only Hope" also by Mandy Moore. Beautiful songs (tear).

Please review. The threat with not posting this chapter because of no reviews did not work. Only one person reviewed (thank you Mark C) and I can't hold off on posting it that long. But I am now in the process of writing my eighth chapter with no power of a muse because of lack of reviews. So review if you want to know what happens next.


	8. Hopeless?

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Author's Note Funeral Of Hearts: There is something you will like at the end of the story if you keep reading but in this alternate universe they do not have their powers. There will be something about that at the end. But the thing about my story is that they all sort of relate to their powers _or_ personalities. Kurt (religious figure. Is said to be a devil but is not), Logan (he is in the stalks like he was tortured in the world we know him in), Professor X (understanding and calm and a like a father to Scott), Beast (science like), Ororo (personality relating to the weather). The thing about Rogue and Scott will come later. I hope you understand that : ).

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Chapter 8

The stars were shining brightly tonight. The wolf howled chaotically to the blue moon tonight. The fire lightly sprouted from the wood the sleeping people were gathered around. They had seen enough fire already, but there was something different about this one. This one was the cause of the people making it together and comforting each other. This fire represented peace and warmth. It would keep them away from the cold air of autumn night.

Jean and Scott had gathered only their healthy people and began to pick everything off the ground. No matter how filthy something gets, you could always clean it back up. They had spent half the night cleaning things up and checking up on the injured. If Rogue was not with them, there was no possible way they could have cleaned most of the place up and had the rest of the night to sleep. She was a dedicated and strong worker. She had not spoken a word since her introduction and they did not pressure her to speak.

They would try to talk to her tomorrow morning, they were just too worn out at the moment for other people. The had provided a blanket for her and some water. She accepted shyly and fell to sleep in an instant. Scott had a genuine smile on his face when they finally uncovered the mystery they have been pondering all these years. But every time he looked over to Jean, she seemed less surprised and secured with Rogue. Rogue tried to avoid eye contact or any contact at all but it was hard not to be pulled in by Jean's magnetism. Scott looked around his people and then to Jean who sighed and yawned at the same time. His lips broke into a smile.

"Scott-Alex Sumners, what are you smiling about?" Jean asked with a tired expression as she followed his eyes.

"Look," Scott said as he motioned with his hands to his mother, who was sleeping peacefully. He looked to Jean who was already smiling and lightly closing her eyes for a few seconds of contentment.

Scott walked over to her and gave his mother a silent peck on the cheek. He had never done that in front of people, but he had the urge to express some of his relief and love to his mother. Jean just placed her hands together and dropped them to the bottom of her stomach. She smiled at Scott and nodded with fulfillment at their hard work today. She had saved more people's lives today than kings and queens of every country in Europe and kings and queens who have declared war in the past.

"Good night Scott," Jean said as she turned around. She was not planning on walking back home, she did not even ponder the thought or think about her home for one second. Anyways, she was too tired for anything but sleep right now. She was proceeding to walk, before Scott's low whispered voice spoke.

"One problem Princess," Scott said with sarcasm as Jean turned to him curiously. Scott just held up the blanket and smiled the widest smile she had ever seen on his face. "There is only one blanket left, Madam."

"Your point is?" Jean asked with a whisper and a joking annoyance on her face. Scott's smile faded slowly, but with comfort. He reached for Jean's hand and held it in the air with his supporting hers from underneath. He escorted her forward to an empty space five feet away from their people. Not much privacy, but to their eyes, each other was the only people they saw at the moment. Unconsciously Jean's eyes kept a lock with Scott's. Why was she doing this? She did not know. But she did not stop.

Scott kept his eyes pinned to Jean's eyes and captured her warm aura. He brought her around him and tightened her back towards his stomach. He held her hand in his and brought it outwards. He intertwined his fingers through hers as he whispered quiet words in her ears. "There is nothing left to sing, but the song must go on," he whispered as his smooth fingers ran up and down her own with warmth. He moved his hand with hers towards her waist, keeping his grip firmly but tenderly on hers. Jean closed her eyes and felt the warm fire emanate heat and Scott's lips exert light wind. Their people's breathing heard silently in the far distance. "La la la la la la la la la la," he whispered into her ear, continuing the silent and harmonic song.

Suddenly, a moan of a man's voice came from the crowd of sleeping people. People's voices muttering something in their nightmares rang through the air. A rough cold breeze blew past them in the night sky as they both shivered. Scott listened and then thought of his dear father. He suddenly tensed. He let go of her hand and placed the blanket lightly over her back. He had stopped. He had stopped as if the voices were motioning for them to stop and nature was telling them that it was enough. But they both acted as if it had never happened. As if their feelings were an illusion.

They both fell silent and decided to end their filled thoughts with a good night's sleep. They both laid on the concrete as Scott placed the blanket over Jean and took a small piece of it. Jean and Scott cuddled close to each other, her head against his bandaged chest beneath his torn shirt. Scott lightly held her around her stomach as they both enjoyed the silence. They savored the moments spent in each other's arms.

Jean spread the blanket over Scott so they both had an equal share. But when Jean felt Scott's breath flow over her ear, she could not stop her shivering. Scott lightly rubbed up her arm through the fabric of the blanket with his masculine, yet gentle hands. Jean breathed the cool air out from her nostrils and gazed at the night sky full of glittering stars. She lightly turned to Scott's face.

Scott's eyes widened slightly as he tried to hide his expression. Her face was so close to his that he thought he would die because he lacked oxygen at the moment. So this is how angels look up close? This is what beautiful is. She was even more amazing and breath taking up close. He looked at her plump lips that were cold, but still soft and welcoming. If he did not keep his head in place and moved one centimeter closer, their lips would meet. Scott kept his eyes fixed on the night sky. He could not look at her, for temptation would overtake his mind and emotions.

"I saw him," Jean whispered towards his face as Scott tried to ignore her warm breath against his face. Thankfully she turned her head back so her hair was to his chin now. He whispered a prayer to the Lord who helped him keep his sanity.

When he took in her words he did not hesitate to ask with curiosity, "Saw whom?"

"Kurtis," she said lightly with a whisper.

"Yes Jean," Scott said with a small laugh, "we always see Kurtis."

"No Scott," she said quietly. She put her hand in his and leaned into his arms. She sulked in his muscular chest and strong arms. She felt so safe and comforted in his arms. As if he were her guardian angel. A beautiful angel. She closed her eyes and whispered, "I really _saw_ him."

Scott nodded with fulfillment and not as much enthusiasm as he would have had as a young boy. He smiled into her red hair. "God answers all of our questions. But he answers them through our experiences. Sometimes they are not our questions anymore," Scott whispered as he smelled the cool air and looked at the stars, the burning fire, then at Jean.

He wished he could kiss her. Right now. But when he heard her steady breathing, signifying she was asleep, he just placed a steady kiss on her bare shoulder, right before her neck. He closed his eyes as she leaned into him and dug his face into her thick red hair. "Time takes care of everything."

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Jean felt the warm sun on her face as she opened her eyes with heaviness. The sun had forced her out of her dreams. What beautiful dreams that she never saw the ending of! She opened her eyes to see the fire still burning brightly. She caressed the warm fingers beneath her hand and did not let one moan escape. She turned to lay on her back which made Scott shift in his position as well. He now had his arms folded to him and balled up in a baby's fist. Jean just looked up at him. She watched him sleep, it was a unique painting with colors used from the rainbow. She listened to him breathe, the greatest music to her ears and song to her soul. She took his hand and kissed his fingertips lightly.

"I think that is enough for you two," Ororo said from behind with her hands on her hips.

"Storm, I, you see," Jean stuttered as she dropped Scott's hand. She slid away from his arms and brought herself to her feet. "Nothing happened. I promise."

Ororo smiled genuinely and nodded, "I believe you, my child." Ororo crouched on her knees and brought the basket full of fruits down with her. Jean did the same as Ororo handed a ripe apple to her and she accepted kindly. She ate with great hunger, appreciating and being fulfilled with the food. She had never felt that way.

"I am sorry," Jean whispered lightly. As she chewed and looked down at her apple. She swallowed hard and bit her lips with nervousness.

"Oh, sorry for what dear?" Ororo asked kindly. She breathed in the air and had a look of appreciation for where she was. Their home was burnt, their people killed, her love captured, and she still had serenity and calmness on her quiet face. Jean admired her so much. She was so thankful and brave.

"I am ashamed that I am somehow associated with whomever attacked your home," Jean said as she bent her head forward. "But I am even more ashamed that I could not do anything about it."

Ororo leaned forward and placed her hand over Jean's. "My child, if someone is in the tallest tower of the highest castle they will not see the stars any closer than everyone else."

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Jean had left before Scott had awoken and made her stay by using his puppy face. She crossed the guards and greeted them. They looked at her with a confused expressions and just went back to their work. She went up concrete stairs from the outside of the castle and through an enclosed, but wide hallway with little windows. She walked through quickly with her filthy white dress and into the castle. She reached the room where gold rimmed couches with red cushions appeared. It is a shame no one ever sits in them.

Jean suddenly felt her ear being pulled and her body slamming against the back of the couch. She looked up with surprise but less fear than she ever had of her mother. "Enough is enough! I forbid it completely!" Queen Elaine exclaimed as Jean looked at her open mouthed. "I do not know where you have been for the past two days, but I know exactly who you were with and what you were doing! How could you do this to me?!?"

"Do what mother! I have not done anything wrong!" Jean said as her temper rose and she practically yelled. "But I will tell you what I have been doing! I have been fighting against the arrogance of our kind!"

"How dare you speak to me like that!"

Jean shook her head with pursed lips trying to contain all the nasty things she had to say to her mother. Jean suddenly sneezed and let out a small cough. "This man that you claim to be the greatest thing among your social duties and obligations has made you sick."

"Mother get a grip on reality!" Jean exclaimed as her mother stared into her green eyes hard. "Why do you force me to marry? So my life can turn into the life of you and Father? I actually want to love and be loved Mother." Jean had finally said it. Somebody needed to hear it. She did not want to end up like her parents, fighting and scowling each other all the time. Her mother showed no expression on her face and became less tensed, and more relaxed.

"Jean-Marie, listen to me," Queen Elaine said as Jean looked at her as if she was a completely different person. She actually sounded genuine.

"Queen?" Jean addressed her with knitted eyebrows.

"I want to meet this boy that has befriended you for so long," Queen Elaine said as the words escaped her lips with sincerity. She looked at Jean and then turned away. "Change that filthy dress!" she called back. What that was all about, she did not know. She was surprised, but none-the-less, excited.

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Jean knew her mother would not take the matter of the attack seriously, so she would not go to her. Instead, she took it up with her father. He had told her he had no idea what she was talking about and that she had to take it up with the house of justice. Jean immediately dragged herself there with passion.

She was actually taking charge of ruling and realizing she had the power. Desperate times call for desperate measures. So Jean went down to the stalks, beneath the palace of justice. She approached the guards standing at the doorway. "Which one of you has the keys to the cells?" Jean asked with a strong voice and confidence within. The guards looked at her as if she was a psycho, in which attitude she did present towards them.

"Princess, may I ask why you need the keys?" one tall guard with black hair and an unshaven beard asked curiously with a corky smile on his face.

"Because I am the princess of France, and I demand it!" Jean exclaimed as the guards shrugged.

"You will have to take it up with the judge," the head guard said.

"What do you mean?" Jean asked rhetorically. "Are you disobeying my orders?!? I need that key!" Jean knew she was not being cruel, but fair and demanding. There was no way to be nice in situations as these when she was right. She had the right to fix the wrongs in her country and they were simply telling her she could not.

"I am sorry princess," the guard said. "But the queen orders us to take orders from her, the king, and our leader only. The queen says that you are not allowed to make any decisions." Jean knitted her eyebrows together and placed her hands on her hips.

She took a deep breath and looked to the palace of justice. So much for making a difference. She handled that situation horribly. She should have stolen the keys instead. But she shrugged it off and smoothed down her simple light brown dress and slightly ran up the steps. When she reached their leader she froze. "Duncan………" she whispered with surprise. "When did you become judge?"

"I am not officially judge, but my father is," Duncan said as he motioned for her to come in the room. Jean walked in, leaving the door wide open. The room included a fireplace that was lit and an iron desk next to it. Jean knew his father was also a new judge. What happened to the other judge?

Jean's eyebrows almost shot off of her face when she took in the information for more than a minute. Duncan looked at her and smiled widely. He walked over to her and asked courteously, "Did you need something?"

"You attacked them," Jean said hatefully. She wanted to punch him, she wished she could. But what would happen after that? "You attacked them," Jean said louder this time with anger filling her bones. Duncan let out a small laugh as he closed the door and locked it. He walked over to Jean and lowered his head to her with blazing blue eyes. He ran the back of his fingers against the side of her face. Jean jolted her head away from him. In response, he grabbed her wrists and pressed her against the wall, grip still resting on her wrists.

His breathing heaved and her fear of his eyes raged through her like boiling water. "You are quite smart for a woman," Duncan said as he neared her face. "But what are you going to do about it? You cannot prove something I did not do."

Jean looked into his eyes and winced. She suddenly shuddered at his words. He was right, how could she prove it? Who would believe her? Who would defend the gypsies? Who would agree with her morals? She was the princess, but that did not seem to matter at the moment. Evil seemed so much more powerful than good at that very moment. Jean swallowed hard as she felt lost, alone, and scared.

But Duncan suddenly interrupted her thoughts and feelings. His hands released her wrists as one gripped the bottom of her cheeks and her chin and pulled her face upwards, closer to him. He licked his lips as the other hand slid towards her chest, severely close to her breasts. He neared to kiss her lips like a hungry animal but she got a hold of her strength with her free hands. She slapped him roughly across his left cheek. She moved away from him as he brought his face up slowly and turned to her with a scowl. "I am quite fond of you Princess," he said with a sinister smile and a light breath of quick recovery.

Jean turned to unlock the door and opened it to run out of the palace. To run to her room and lock herself there. To cry silently to herself.

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Scott hurried through the field of wild flowers and tall grass, as usual, and towards Jean's room. He had to see her. Seven days have passed and he could not take it any more. When he was caring for his people's needs, he was thinking about her. When he was talking to his mother, he was thinking about her. When he tried not to think of what had happened to his people, he thought about her. He craved to see her. He needed to see her.

Jean had not returned to him because of the immense trouble he realized he had caused her to get into. But he needed to see her as soon as possible. He ran through the field and closed his eyes to feel the wind on his face. But when he did so he fell to the ground.

"Watch where you are going, young man," a familiar voice said as Scott smiled and opened his eyes to see Grandfather Charles.

"Good evening Grandfather," Scott said as he hopped off the grass and smiled at the gentle old man.

"Scott, is this going to continue forever?" Charles asked with weariness. Scott looked at him blankly. Charles shook his head with a smile. "Are you ever going to meet the family? Introduce yourself to relatives of your soul mate."

"Soul mate……Grandfather, I………" Scott stuttered as he stood there contemplating the words the man had spoken. When he finally took time to think about it, her grandfather was right. Out of all the years he has known Jean, he has never been acquainted with her family. He has never been formally introduced. Was Jean trying to keep him away from her family? Was she ashamed of him? Wait, what was he saying? Does he actually expect to meet the king and queen of France formally. He was a gypsy, which he seemed to forget at the moment. "Grandfather, I shall get back to you on that," Scott said as he shrugged the situation off. Jean's own grandfather believed in something so crucial.

"If you show confidence and your true self, the cliché 'appearances can be deceiving' will make sense to them," Charles said back to Scott as Scott nodded politely. "If they have good judge of character, they will love you."

Scott smiled and said goodbye as he raced towards her room. He called up to her as usual as Jean invited him up as usual. He climbed up the usual way and went in the usual way. But he felt unusual. He walked in to find Jean changing behind the fan-like object in her room. He was silent as he stared at it intently, as if it were the most intriguing thing in the world. He walked closer to the tall object and tilted his head over slightly. He lightly beamed forward and protested against his actions. But he could not control it. He had the urge to see her changing.

Jean suddenly stepped forward as Scott jolted back. He maintained his control and stood his ground, acting as if he was standing in that position the whole time. She came out in a red dress that was draped like a long vest next to the sleeves and a white top beneath it. A golden belt hung around the middle and dropped in front with a gold emblem. "Good morning Scott," she said lightly as she looked at him slightly longer than usual. She was in a fine mood now because of Scott, despite what had happened a week ago.

"Good morning Jean," Scott said with a grin as he bowed lightly.

Jean looked at him over and over again, admiring him for a moment. The royal blue blouse brought out his eyes. She outlined his blouse with her eyes and met his own in time to catch him staring at her. Jean faltered and quickly looked out the window. "It is a beautiful day for new beginnings, is it not?" Jean asked as she gazed at the bright blue sky.

"Yes, it is," Scott said as he followed her gaze. He began to walk around the room in deep thought. "Jean, I want to meet your parents. I mean really meet them. I find it quite awkward that we are unable to be formally introduced after all these years," Scott blurted out from his hidden feelings.

"That is a great idea, because they want to meet you," Jean said happily as she watched Scott freeze in his place. "At dinner next week."

"Umm," Scott said hesitantly, not realizing how much he would regret saying what he did. That was all talk. But it was really happening. The only question was, would he survive a heart attack? "Uhh………"

"What's wrong? Did you not want to meet them?"

"No, Jean. It is wonderful." Scott tried to ignore where this conversation was going. Instead, he resorted to talking about what they were going to do today. "Rogue has not said a word for a week. She does not feel threatened by us because she is still there. But she keeps herself in a corner, quiet as the sky. I did not want to speak to her without you. Although Remy has already tried. He finds her very attractive."

"Who would not find her beautiful?" Jean asked un-consciously.

"No doubt she is beautiful," Scott said with a soft and romancing voice. "But there is no one who is more beautiful than the rose standing before my melting eyes." Jean blushed with a small smile and looked away from his eyes. His voice was so honestly believable. So tender and caring. Scott could not believe he had said that out loud. There were so many more things he wanted to say to her. "Are you ready to go?"

"What are we waiting for? Let's go."

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Author's Note "No matter how filthy something gets, you can always clean it right back up" was a line borrowed from the movie _Bruce Almighty_. "This is what beautiful is," was from the movie _At First Sight_. I love that movie. It's one of my favorite romance movies. Great theme, much warmth.

GO READ PINKCHICK'S STORY!!! She is a wonderfully terrific writer. Her knew story is amazingly creepy. It is called "Sacrifice" and I think she doesn't get enough credit or feedback for what she does. The story involves mystery with a little Jott (which she loves) and a little Loro (which I also adore). The story involves Heaven, hell and mutants in a very creative manner. It is building up to what I think will be suspense. So please check it out!!!


	9. Beneath

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Author's Note Thank you Mark C for reviewing every single one of my chapters. I really appreciate that.

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Chapter 9

She was not with the gypsies any longer. Remy had informed them that she ran away while he was trying to communicate with her. Such a flirt yet such a wreck around Rogue. Scott and Jean wanted to believe that she ran away from poor Remy but they knew deep inside he had nothing to do with that. Maybe she feels she had overstayed her welcome with the gypsies which, to Jean, is impossible. Jean resorted to the conclusion of Rogue being at the church with her brother. They might be able to see them together at last. Jean smiled as Scott hopped off the horse and Jean was helped off after him. He was such a proper gentlemen for a gypsy. A gypsy, to her mother, was said to have no proper etiquette whatsoever. But Jean knew otherwise. She looked to Scott who was staring forward with knitted eyebrows. She kept her gaze on him, not realizing something was wrong. She admired his serious face. The way he took life lightly, yet intimidated people with that look. But he could never intimidate Jean.

Noticing his knitted eyebrows and resorting to finding out about his serious features she whispered, "Scott?" She turned around to see him standing stiff. "Do you not want to come?"

Silence.

"I……I…I do."

"Are you afraid?" Jean asked as Scott was in silence as a form of bravery. A form of containment. "There is nothing to be afraid of," she whispered as Scott looked into her green eyes. So warm and knowing. He held her gaze longer than usual as he went into her eyes, feeling the depth of the color green. Amazing intensity of warmth and love. She let out her hand for Scott to take. And he did so. He put his hand in hers, so tenderly. He would follow her anywhere. "Trust me. It is worth it."

Scott walked behind Jean as she led him forward, hand in hers. They opened the cathedral doors slowly to be met with the eyes of the priest a few feet away. "Proceed into the house of God," the priest said silently. "Where everyone is welcome."

Scott held on to her hand as they looked around to see a hooded figure. Jean did not say a word but led him to a room she knew the location of perfectly. The room she had had an encounter with Kurtis. The room she had met him in. Scott looked around to see candle holders holding candles that were dripping of wax and melting. They were dim but the room still glowed warmly. A hooded figure's shadow was displayed across the checkered floor with the dim lights of the candles giving the shadow a slight glare. "Kurtis?" Jean's voice echoed through the empty room filled with long, thick poles that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. He was silent. He was frozen. Jean motioned for Scott to come closer. So he did.

Kurtis had his hand through his sleeves pulled together as his back was hunched. He was whispering silent words. Prayers. Scott's knitted eyebrows became relaxed as he let the comfortable presence of Kurtis wash over his senses. He looked forward and saw something a person with fear of the unknown would not see. He saw a kind soul in front of his eyes. Something he had failed to look into before.

Silence echoed through the mediocre sized room. Hard breathing came from the hooded man. He whispered something in German then he made it clearer when he said it in French. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I am so sorry. I am truly sorry," he whispered lightly as he bent his head down.

Jean came up to him to place a light hand on his shoulder. "Kurtis, there is no need to be sorry," Jean whispered with a cracked voice quietly, her voice sounding weird to her ears after so much silence.

"I am truly sorry," he spoke again. Jean listened to his sorrowful voice and looked back at Scott who was silently approaching behind her. Jean looked at Kurtis' back and noticed his hood. "She vas scared. I vas terrified."

"Kurtis, wh……???" Jean's voice trailed off as she rested her fingers on the ends of his shoulder.

"They vere terrified of me. Vhich made me terrified of zem," Kurtis said ever so lightly. Jean and Scott winced at his words. How could they have been scared of him this whole time when the only reason he hid was because of his fear of people? Arrogant people who made up rumors to hide what they did not know. To not feel bad about being close minded and rejecting towards what they know could be kind souls. Jean took in what he said and wondered why people would be terrified of a man who had been here for so long. As long as they knew he was not interfering with them they said nothing. But when he decided to live, they rejected him. What could they reject of such a kind soul?

Jean suddenly had the urge to pull off his hood. To look face to face into the eyes of that whom they have misjudged for so many years. They ran the first time they encountered him, and the second time. But she knew running did not do any good. When people run, they go so fast because of fear that everything around them is a blur. If they had just stopped to look. If they had only stopped and seen him. If they could have only stopped to see him. But now they had the chance to see him and she was taking it. She lifted her hand towards his hood and began to bring it down softly and very slowly. Kurtis' head turned the other way.

Before the hood fell to his shoulders, a gasp came from behind. Scott turned around to see Rogue standing at the doorway. But her gasp was too late, for the hood had came down to his shoulders. His pale face was slowly turning towards them. Carvings were marked on his face. Jean recognized the angelic symbols. Jean lightly ran her fingers over the carved markings with no fear. Scott almost felt jealousy flow through him.

"One for every sin I have committed."

"We are sorry Kurtis," she said with despair. Kurtis looked to her with innocence and confusion.

"We are sorry for those who were blind to see you," Scott said, clearing up Kurtis' confusion.

"Dankeshon. Thank you," Kurtis whispered as silence echoed the room once more, "for being here."

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A week has passed since they had spoken to Rogue and Kurtis. Jean and Scott both enjoyed being with those two, despite their fear of them when they had judged them before knowing them. They both felt so safe and warm with Rogue and Kurtis. To have such pure souls tortured and tried was over bearing for Jean and Scott. But Kurtis had told them that God puts everyone in the world in situations that are not easy to see how they will handle it. To see if their souls have the strength and capacity to stay good in the face of evil.

Scott tried to keep that in mind as he walked, for the first time, to the front gates of the palace Jean belonged in. The guards opened the gates for him for the first time as he stepped into the main hall of the large palace for the first time. This was so nerve wrecking that Scott forgot to breathe for a second in the time he was blindly led to the dining hall by the servants he knows so well.

He was surprised to find his head not looking around large objects that looked amazing to him, but in the marble ground. A strong man would only put his head in the ground when he was thinking about a woman. For no large objects were more amazing to him than Jean was all his life. Sometimes he would lay back and picture his life as a whole. He would laugh at it. Who would ever imagine love between a princess and a gypsy. Such a combination was impossible. But nevertheless, it had happened.

When he heard footsteps his head popped up. He straightened his white blouse and made sure not a speck was on it. He had to look clean. He looked at Jean and Kitty who were walking in the dining hall. The candles that were lit around the walls of the halls gave Jean's face a soft warmth and Scott began to fiddle with his hands.

"Good evening, Sir Scott," Kitty said nicely with a bright smile as she tapped Jean's hands and looked at his warm expression towards her. "Scott?"

"Yes Ma'am," Scott regarded Kitty, a servant.

"When you speak, speak with confidence. Otherwise, the queen will find weakness in you," Kitty said honestly and motherly like. "Don't avoid eye contact and if you do, show the confidence with your face." Kitty desperately wished she could be more like the words she spoke.

"I will be sure to follow your advice," Scott said as Kitty exited the room and fled to the kitchen. Scott began to walk around the large table and fiddle with the neat napkins and forks and knives. After a moment of awkward silence, Jean broke it with an idea in mind.

"Scott," she said as Scott's full attention diverted to her. "I do not like this awkward state between us. It is causing us to be intimidating to each other." Scott's expression lightened as he smiled and looked at Jean as a friend and again as something more, all at the same time. He looked at her eyes and felt that familiar warmth and comfortable state he always used to feel around her.

"How about we help Kitty set the food on the table," Scott stated with a smile as he grabbed Jean's shocked remorse and led her into the kitchen. Jean walked in with awkwardness.

"This is amazing!!!" Jean exclaimed as she began to open the cupboards and gaze at the plates and silverware inside. The kitchen was medium sized with wooden tables and cupboards and the smell of freshly baked food. Far less fancy than the rest of the palace, but amazing, warm and light. It reminded her of being with the gypsies. Everyone in the kitchen was doing their business with loud chatter, that cannot be heard through the hall and into the dining room, of happiness and togetherness. They were fulfilled with each other and their surroundings, despite where they were exactly. They helped each other with cooking which was a great activity to pass the time. Jean had never even touched food without a utensil before. She looked to Scott who surprisingly had the same expression she did.

He looked around the kitchen to smell the fresh food around him as if it were Heaven. How wonderfully amazing it is to have all this food. Delightful to the appetite. Scott wished he could grab just a handful of this food to feed his people. What great joy they would get from just a handful! If he were to live here he would spend every waking moment in the kitchen. The people reminded him of his own, the way they were care-free and fulfilled with what they were doing. Jean suddenly looked at him as they both plunged forward, the servants inviting them in, to grab the large plates and take them inside. "How can servants make this tasty looking food and not be able to share a meal with you on the table?" Scott asked as Jean froze and looked to him intently and deep thinking written on her face.

"I don't know Scott," Jean said silently under her breath. "I don't know," she repeated with an even lighter whisper as they retrieved to the kitchen and finished up the work in a half hour. They had arrived in time to sit on the chairs, clean, when her parents arrived. The king and queen went down the long table to sit at the head. Jean and Scott took their seats after the king and queen. Apparently two minutes later, three more people walked into the room. Scott's heart began to pound with nervousness against his chest. He turned to Jean as he heard her gasp.

"Good evening your majesties," the thin woman said as her husband and her walked over to be seated next to Scott. A couple of servants and body guards stood against the wall, to Scott's knew knowledge, as their son sat next to Jean, across from him. He looked at the blond man for a second when he was interrupted by the blond man's mother. "So this is the man the queen has been talking about. Such a good deed for your daughter, King John, to feed this poor boy." Scott suddenly froze at her words and pretended not to take them in. He did not even look towards Jean, but he felt her trying not to fidget.

"This food is delicious," Jean spoke with a half cracked voice when minutes of silence passed. When she regained her sound she continued. "The cooks and servants did a well done job creating such a delicious meal."

"Stop leaning on the back of the chair, boy," Queen Elaine snapped quickly and quite fiercely at Scott as she then turned her attention to Jean with raised eyebrows. "Since when did you, Jean-Marie, comment on the food?"

Scott had his back away from the back side of the fancy red chair to eat food on and felt a little awkward. He felt as if he could not enjoy his food this way when he was focusing so much on being poised. But he kept a light smile on his face and tried to make conversation with the woman who was oddly related to Jean. "The food _is _wonderfully tasteful, your majesty."

"I'm sure to you everything is," Queen Elaine said bitterly.

"Well, being a peasant is not an easy task," the man that seemed to be the blond man's father said, trying to sound respectful. Scott slightly slouched unconsciously at the words. Had Jean not told them he was a gypsy. No, of course not. How could she, they would never understand or let him step foot in their house. He did not know if he should be ashamed of himself or proud?

"Yes, it is hard to keep clean with such surroundings," Duncan's mother stated with a polite little giggle, as if she was trying to keep her manners under such conditions.

"Mother," Jean said with a tight voice. "I comment on the food today to inform you that the servants deserve a raise. Especially Kitty." Jean ate slowly and properly, unlike the way Scott saw her eat with him in his surroundings. Was this a good thing? "After all she has done for me……for us. She raised me." Jean took a bite of her food slowly, devouring the taste with satisfaction.

Queen Elaine gasped and placed her small hands on the table with objection. "We will speak of this matter later," Queen Elaine said as she turned to Scott with daggers in her green eyes. "Sit up straight, boy. It seems you cannot even have proper manners for dining with the queen. Neither the proper clothing," she said as she looked over his ordinary blouse, with no gold hanging from it and with no value to royalty. But Jean thought it had value. She guessed that his mother made it and what could be more valuable.

Jean looked at Scott who was biting his lip and fixing his posture. He did not look like the man she knew. She turned to her mother and decided to argue. If she did not speak now, she would forever hold her peace. "No Mother, we will speak of this matter right this instant!" she exclaimed to her surprise. "Because………it is already done." Jean felt her mother's stare on her as she thanked Duncan, for once, for interrupting.

"Queen," Duncan said with a smug voice. "Do you not believe that your daughter needs to have some control in front of guests?" Jean turned to him with slightly squinted eyes, trying to keep a small, but fake, smile on her face. Duncan looked to her with a tightened jaw and eyes that felt like Jean was being pierced with needles.

"Duncan Mathewette," Queen Elaine said with the sweetest voice she could conjure, "this _boy_ is no _guest_."

"I was talking about my family and I your majesty," Duncan said with a small guffaw. Scott tried to ignore eye contact with this man. A presence that made him want to escape this place and hide. He had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. But then he looked towards Jean's embarrassed face and decided to be strong, yet polite to her mother.

Instead he directed his bravery towards her quiet father. "King John, I………" Scott found himself speechless. Why did he even open his mouth if he had nothing intelligent to say? This was not his usual behavior. How far he would go for the woman across from him? Obviously far enough. He sighed quietly. Where was Grandfather Charles when he needed him desperately? Scott was usually brave in front of such people, containing his feelings, but this was it. He did not want to contain his feelings in the name of love. He needed to speak out. How would a person know how to dry tears if one did not cry out.

He looked towards Jean as if to say something he could not speak. He found her mother staring at him from the corners of his blue eyes. She had frozen with knitted eyebrows and a knowing expression. As if she had known something and just seen it proven true. "I believe the wedding should be in the spring, what do you think John?" Queen Elaine said as she watched Scott's eyes shrink and his body slightly tense. Who was she talking about? Scott was afraid to ask. It is as if she could hear his heart pounding.

"That would be wonderful your highness," Duncan said as he looked towards Scott so hard that Scott felt uncomfortable under his eyes. He felt so uncomfortable that he did not take in the content of the question directed towards him. "You look familiar. Have we met before?"

"Duncan," queen Elaine said with a laugh as if it were funny. "The only place you would have an encounter with this man is if you were walking and looking at the ground."

Duncan kept his cold stare on Scott's fidgeted body at queen Elaine's words. After a moment of staring Scott did not want to turn to Jean or her parents so he turned to Duncan. There, their eyes had met across the table. Blue with blue. Royal blue and sky blue. Ice and heat.

Those eyes. He recognized those eyes. It was the leader of those who attacked him and his family. Did Jean know about this? Why would she not inform him? Why did she not tell him that he would be coming for dinner? Scott thought about getting up and running out with a clouded and hurt heart. But he could not give in to the man who killed so many of his people. He could not look weak in front of Jean's parents, the king and queen of France. Not now. He had to stand his ground for himself, and most importantly, for Jean. He looked to Jean with a solemn face and his heart sank. It sank down into his belly. He could not give up on her now. So he tried to make as polite conversation as he could possibly muster. "Oh weddings are wonderful. They are a very joyous occasion to everyone," Scott said with a smile as he tried not to look at the food. If he did he would want to eat it all in one mouthful. But afraid of what Jean's mother would say, he dared to touch it. Scott turned to Jean who had her eyebrows creased and knitted at the same time. What was wrong with her? Had he not proven himself to her either?

"Yes weddings _are_ wonderful," queen Elaine said through gritted teeth. _Whoa,_ Scott thought happily. _She actually agrees with me!_ When queen Elaine relaxed and smiled politely she continued. "Especially for one's own child."

"Of course," Duncan said looking to Jean with a small and mischievous grin. "We will be the greatest couple in all of France, your majesty." Duncan turned to Jean to see her frozen. He placed a hand under her chin to turn her head up. "Why are you not eating, my sweet?" Duncan asked with a fake polite voice.

Duncan's gesture towards Jean drove him towards insanity. It filled him with overwhelming frustration. Scott could hear his heart beating in his throat. He prayed that this was just a dream. But he looked down at his plate and felt his mind fill with frustration and his body cloud over and knew it could not be a dream. Dreams were more enjoyable. Something that would never be. He suddenly pictured Jean with another man. An evil man who mistreated her and kept her bright mind quiet. Goose bumps suddenly filled his body as he imagined arms that are not his around her. His breathing became vague and he could not feel the atmosphere around him.

Scott's heart and mind were taken over with confusion and hatred towards this man. He looked to Jean who had her eyes on her food. Silence crowded the table as King John began to speak with Duncan's father and his mother joined them. Queen Elaine pretended as if she was unaware of anything going on at the table and joined in the conversation between the elders. Duncan ate his food happily as Jean's hands grew weak around her fork. Scott kept his blue eyes upon Jean and felt the need to take her away right now. He wanted to grab her and place her on a horse. He wanted to take her as far away from everyone and everything as possible. He felt selfish at the moment. But he felt great pride in his selfishness. He wanted her for himself and no one else. "Who are you to judge?" Scott questioned a little louder than the tone he has been using the whole time. He broke out through his locked emotions. Everyone grew quiet. Jean was surprised, yet quiet.

"I beg your pardon?" Duncan asked as if he had not heard him.

"Contain the level and the tone of your voice," Queen Elaine said sharply as Scott ignored her comment and kept his eyes locked on the murderer.

"Who are you to judge?" Scott asked again, with a sharp tone this time. "Do you even know any other couple outside of these walls? Do you even know if Jean loves you?"

"Do you know?" Duncan questioned back. Scott looked at him through squinted eyes. His expression was gruff as his breath heaved with anticipation of comebacks. Did he even know?

"I know that she does not deserve an evil man like you!" Scott yelled back with anger as he slammed his hands against the table and stood up. Duncan imitated his movements and stared at him coldly.

"Young man, contain your anger!" Queen Elaine exclaimed as everyone watched the two battle. King John turned to her in protest as Queen Elaine disregarded him. "You piece-less worth of nothing. You are nothing and will never be able to amount to anything. Not even an insect. You are beneath us. That is the end of that." Scott turned to her with a heaving breath and hurt blue eyes. His features seemed flushed and he was angry with the world. Why did things like this have to happen? "I know very well what your intentions are," she said coldly as she looked at her daughter. Then she turned her full attention back to Scott and stared him down, without blinking. "The future queen will marry a man worthy enough to be future king. Not some peasant!"

"Your majesty," Duncan interrupted. "May I inquire that he is beneath peasants. He is a gypsy." A gasp was heard from everyone on the table, except for Jean. Jean was quiet. "Dissolute creatures they are. He is one of them. He should not even step foot onto this floor. We are inferior to them and they need to be taught that lesson."

Could Scott tell them what Duncan had done to the gypsies? No. They would agree with Duncan's actions. Morals that are not righteous. Scott clenched his jaw and made his hands into fists. He pulled his chair back with the back of his legs and walked out of the room quickly.

Everyone watched him leave. Except Jean. Her eyes were fixated on her food for the last two minutes. Everyone began to chatter silent words, some loud words. Except Jean. She was silent.

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Scott went through the garden he had come to pick flowers from seven years ago. The garden that had led him to meet Jean in the first place. He was headed towards the trees to escape the grounds of this horrible palace. Beauty from the outside and hatred from the inside. Anyone who was in his place would curse themselves for ever wondering what it was like in there. He was so frustrated and confused that he did not know what to think. How to react.

"SCOTT!!!" Scott heard a voice call out to him from far away. He did not want to speak with anyone. He continued walking until the voice called out again, louder this time. "SCOTT!!!" the voice came from the middle of the field. Scott turned around to be met with Grandfather Charles. Why had he listened to his advice?

Scott wanted to scold him cruelly somehow but he knew he should not. He knew he would only be doing it because of the anger he had built inside of him. Scott could only muster words that came from within. Words he barely heard himself speak. "Why were you not there Grandfather?" he asked with a strong, mono-toned voice that he noticed made Grandfather Charles wince.

"I am sorry my son, but I was meeting with some old friends," Grandfather Charles said apologetically as Scott turned his head away from him. He could not look at him in fear of bursting with anger. "So how did it go, my son?" Charles asked, pretending he did not see the hurt expression upon Scott's confused blue eyes.

"You believe in character and judgment. You believe in human beings and their morals," Scott said with emphasis on the words he spoke of stress and anger.

"I certainly do. Everyone is equal in moral ways they do not even realize," Charles said as he lightly stomped his cane on the ground and held a frozen face towards Scott with his mouth set in a grim line.

"Sir Charles," Scott said formally with a light bow of his head. "Your ways are a waste of precious time in this world. People have ears but they do not listen. People have hearts, but they do not feel. I believe reality is far from your grasp."

"And what of love, young man?" Charles asked with a convincing voice.

"Love is a figment of our imagination," Scott whispered as he shook his head in pity. He turned to walk towards the trees and find his horse. Finding it he did. Climbing onto he it he did. And riding away in seconds, he did.

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Author's Note Sorry for taking so long to write my ninth chapter. I had a writer's block but continued when I remembered my reviewers. Thanks!!!


	10. Tasting the Rain

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Author's Note

Pinkchick: You keep inspiring me to write more. Thanks for all the support!!!

Lil Jean: Tried to update as quickly as possible for ya…hehe.

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Mark C: I know how ya feel about Duncan and Jean's mother, but sadly the bad things always happen to good people……

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Lexan: Thanks for that feel good review. I like to hear that people enjoy the way I write and I love imagery……this is the chapter where you will find the most of it!!!

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Black-rose91: I agree that JOTT rules, hents me writing this story…hehe. I'm glad you like the explanation of feeling which I am trying to accomplish the most, seeming this is a romance story. Sometimes romance is so hard to describe in a way where people feel it in their bones. I'm trying…… Duncan's fate will be revealed soon.

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Thank you all for reviewing my ninth chapter. Hope to hear more of your comments! For those who reviewed before or are currently reading this story, I yearn reviews so please do so!!! ENJOY!!!

Recommendation to go read Pinkchick's story "Sacrifice". It's a good one.

Chapter 10

Charles knew where she was. He entered the library after nights of sleeping and days of thinking about the encounter he had had with Scott a few days back. He found Jean in a corner beneath the long, curved steps, on a wooden table. She had a book open and her eyes were searching the page, reading word for word with intensity. "Interesting book?" Charles asked lightly to his granddaughter as he took a seat across from the small table. Jean looked up with sore red eyes and a tear stained face. She nodded at his question and looked down at the book to hide her face. He could not see her like this, helpless.

"Grandfather," Jean said politely with respect towards her loving grandfather. "Did you need something?"

"I need your attention," Grandfather Charles said as she looked up at him with weak and saddened eyes. "My dear, I do not like to see you in such a state. Dry your eyes. Allow me to see that beautiful smile like always." Jean forced the tiniest smile onto her face. Then she decided to let out her thoughts to the person willing to listen. The person who would understand her.

"I thought it would go fine," Jean said then winced and shook her head with disapproval. "But, deep down inside, I knew something was wrong. Grandfather, it happened and I let it happen. I _knew_ something was wrong from the start, yet I helped it blossom into a disaster."

"Life is not easy my dear," Grandfather Charles said softly with a caressing voice.

"I know. But I could control this situation, yet I did not. I was silent," Jean said through a choked voice. Tears began to stream down her face as her body trembled. Scott and her have gotten into many fights before. But small and meaningless fights. Situations children dealt with, small matters and details of life. Nothing ever this big. Nothing ever this hurtful. She sniffled lightly as she whispered through a beating heart, "And now I lost my best friend. I have lost my best friend."

"Jean. Everybody makes mistakes. What everybody does not do is fix them," Charles said meaningfully as he wiped the tears from Jean's eyes.

She wanted to bury herself in this book. Away from the truth, away from reality. Away from the conclusions of the cruelty of life. Away from the ground, and into the sky. She was silent, what a horrible nightmare to be silent! "Grandfather, our two worlds do not belong. Not together."

"People are people, and that is the end of that," he said.

"It is not as easy as it sounds," Jean said as she watched her Grandfather's eyes grow lost in space. He was thinking of something in another world. He shook his head in disagreement towards her words. Why would he disagree? Everything that has happened agrees with her words. Her words are the truth and he is not making it easier on her by lying. Jean shut her book and looked at the black cover with fancy lettering on it. She had not wanted to read a book she always enjoyed reading today. _Utopia_ is a book she dreaded even thinking about. How horribly bad had Thomas Moore's life been to write a book about paradise. Something that lives in people's minds and imaginations.

"As former king of France, I object," Charles said with his mouth set in a grim line. It seemed as if he was about to open up to Jean. It seemed as if he was going to tell her something she has never heard before as he took in a deep breath. "You never knew your Grandmother."

"I wish I did," Jean said as she fiddled with the book's pages. She had seen a picture of her grandmother. She was beautiful. Jean's mother resembled her own mother very much. Jean always wanted to know about her but never had the chance to ask.

"She would be very proud of the granddaughter she has. But not in this situation," Grandfather said lightly. "Your Grandmother was from a village in Rome." Jean's eyes widened with surprise and interest. She now understood her Grandfather's words. She understood his point. Point of life and love. He was a lucky man to have married the woman he loved.

"Does Mother know this?" Jean whispered intently. She had to ask and she had to find out. Grandfather shook his head. How could her mother be so cruel against those who were not like her when her own mother was not like her father? How could she be so close-minded and blind? God does work in mysterious ways. Charles got up from the table as he watched a smile curl upon Jean's face.

"Jean," he said as he leaned on his cane and turned his head to the side. "Time has no barriers. No boundaries. Neither does love."

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Jean patted Scott's brown horse as she watched the sun float on the horizon. She kissed the horse and walked away from the trees, into the open area where the sun could be seen. She looked forward to spot Scott looking up when all he had to do was turn around. A slight breeze blew past her and she shivered when she watched Scott's muscular body tremble beneath the breeze. She watched intently with squinted green eyes as he laid his face in his hands. She watched him sigh deeply and pull his knees closer to him. His legs were slightly apart as he grabbed a rock from the ground and threw it forward. Jean slowly walked up to him as he put his forehead on his lower arm that he leaned against his knees. Her shadow suddenly hovered over him. Scott looked up with starry eyes as he whispered her name with softness, "Jean."

Jean gave him a genuine smile at the sound of her name through his soothing voice. He smiled back, giving in to her magnetism. But then his thoughts and memories rushed over him again. Jean gazed at him with a welcoming heart and he allowed himself to let it be welcomed. He looked at her with a stern face to tell her he was being serious. It was hard when he looked at her face that shone with the sun's dim light and her dress blowing lightly with the slight breeze. She looked so beautiful. "Hello," was all Jean could muster from her thoughts. Her mouth was speechless and her heart was weak at the sight of him.

Jean sat on her knees, next to him, and placed her hands weakly in her lap. Scott ran his hands over his face and brushed his hair away. He sighed deeply and inhaled the feel of Jean's presence. He wanted to say so much to her. He wanted to shout. He wanted to yell at her and tell her that they should have never even pondered the thought of friendship. But what did they know? They were so young. Scott closed his eyes for a second and felt confused thoughts run through his head. He knew deep down inside that he wanted to take her in his arms and give her all of his love. "God, Jean, you………you could have had the decency to inform me that you are engaged," Scott said with an irritated voice. After everything he thought about telling her, that was all he could think of saying. His words were lost and his actions were limited. "You could have told me that you loved a man."

Jean creased her eyebrows and bit her pink lips. She wanted to tell him she was sorry. Sorry for being silent. But she could not bring herself to say that. "The subject never came up, so I never spoke of it. Why would you even care for it much?" Jean said as she saw Scott wince and look into the distance. Had she just said what she heard herself say? She knew what she was here to say. So why had she not said it?

He looked towards her and searched her eyes. He found himself melting into them and that was all he saw. Her eyes. "Eight years ago I saw you on the market's streets with your servants. I followed you to the palace, not caring who you turned out to be. I told myself that I could have a chance with her," Scott said then looked to her with gleaming eyes and paused to take a breath. "………I had never seen anything more beautiful," Scott whispered as Jean looked to him with glistening eyes. Jean's body froze as her muscles became a stoned statue. Her heart began to pound against her chest as her breathing seemed to stop. The silence overtook their presence and she could have sworn she could hear the stars twinkle and the moon cry behind the growing clouds. "But words are but words. Nothing more, nothing less," he whispered softly as the words lingered in Jean's ears.

Jean shivered beneath his words and stood up. She began to giggle. Scott looked to her with a questioning expression on his face. "Did you say that I was engaged to a man that I loved?" Jean asked as more laughing escaped her lips.

Scott creased his eyebrows with a small smile trying to escape his lips. "Jean?" Scott questioned with curiosity and hopefulness. "You don't love him?"

"How could I love such a man. The word for that is betrothal," Jean said as laughter tumbled out and Scott's heart was freed. He began to laugh with Jean. The only person who could make him laugh in such a way. They began to laugh together as Jean felt a hand grab hers and pull her down to the ground. They stumbled upon each other with laughter.

When their laughter faded into the distance, Jean opened her eyes to meet Scott's blue eyes. His eyes emanated pure light in the fading sun. His face was inches away from hers and their breathing seemed to stop.

The earth seemed to stop. The breeze seemed to stop. But their hearts seemed to blossom, pounding against each other loudly.

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The clouds floated ever so slightly across the dim sunlight. Orange and pink tendrils painted their colors on the horizon. The extraordinary light seemed to reflect the color green in Jean's eyes as if it were a glistening symbol of Heaven. Pure light emanated from them, causing Scott to falter and freeze. He looked upon her with a light he has seen her in from day one. But when had she become so tempting? He was beaming over her, steadying himself with his hands pressed lightly upon the earth.

The slightest breeze floated past them, causing a piece of Jean's loose red hair to tickle her forehead. Scott leaned on his lower arm that was pressed on the Earth as he slowly moved the other one towards Jean's face. He moved the strand of red hair across her forehead, caressing the skin slightly with his shaking fingertips, and softly tucked it behind her ear.

Goose bumps covered Jean's body as she gazed at Scott's blue eyes. Their immense color and beauty captivated her and she felt as if she was melting slowly into the heated soil. She blinked once or twice in the frozen moment as she noticed something in his eyes. Something she would see when she watched him sleep. When he was sleeping his eyelids would be closed, but she could feel the warmth in them. She knew his soul. She could feel the tenderness, love, and desire that twinkled in them right now, in the shadow of the fading sun.

Their bodies were as still as the trees. The Earth was calm but their hearts were trembling. The sky seemed not to move, the trees stood peaceful and still, and the air was moist and calm.

Jean locked his eyes with hers as if they were melting into each other, slowly. Her fingers brushed a piece of his fallen strand back with the rest of his hair. The color of chestnut was entangled between her fingers as she brushed her hand through. When her hand came to the end of his short hair it moved downwards. Her fingers were vibrating down the side of his eye and ear, until she made a stop in the middle of his cheek. He was truly beautiful. More unique than a piece of art. She lightly cupped his cheek tenderly and painted her thumb across his strong, edged, and heated jaw line. This drove Scott's heart and mind towards insanity full of desire as he leaned into her palm just to feel her soft skin. He made sure to take in the senses that washed over him at that moment. The smell of the soil, the feel of the calm air, the flowery scent of Jean's hair that he made sure to inhale slowly, and the face of an angel.

A heavy raindrop fell upon her pale neck as the air became damp and the smell of the soil beneath them felt so natural. No sound of life lurked in the air. No insects buzzing, no animals howling or crying. No sound of thunder, no sight of lightening. Nothing in the air but the sound of their soft breathing lingered.

Jean tilted her head back to feel the water falling from the sky. She did not move to wipe the drops that lingered, but allowed them to pour down her face and into her hair. She felt a raindrop splash lightly across the soft and heated skin of her neck, followed by another. She felt one single, somewhat different raindrop fall on her shoulder. It felt like fire. Enticement flowed over her mind, heart, soul, and body. It overtook the physical functions of everything.

Still. Very still, but warm. A still, but warm raindrop slipped up the middle of her neck without movement. The raindrops of Scott's lips felt like the raindrop feels when it touches the sea. When the tip rests upon the sky. She felt his love like the rainbow loves the light.

His lips brushed themselves up her neck and rested a kiss right before her chin. He moved his lips slowly from her neck and over her chin, centimeters away from touching her skin. Jean tilted her face up and Scott gazed upon it with love, noticing her eyes closed.

He brought one hand towards her quivering lips and barely touched them. When he touched them, he felt lightening flash through his body in a heartbeat. One hand was in her long red hair, feeling the softness of it against his fingers and savoring every second. His breathing fell heavy against her face and she silently breathed his air into her nostrils.

It was like a dance. An everlasting dance. A song inside her soul pounding against her heart, mind, and mouth to escape. It was almost like a fairytale was happening to her. Or was she dreaming again?

His lips brushed away her thoughts as he touched her parted mouth with softness. Their lips trembled beneath each other. Their lips finally met as they began to move against each other's skin at a slow pace, quivering silently. His lips began to sink into hers with rising passion. He held her face with one hand to be certain that this was reality and not a dream. The rain became heavier and showered upon them with intensity.

She was definitely not dreaming.

Their tongues slowly slipped into each other's mouths and became one. It was as if they were tasting the earth and rain itself. It was so natural, so right.

The enticement flowed through their bones as their passion aroused increasingly. The rain poured upon their limp bodies and stained their clothes intensely. Scott could not stop his hands from moving towards her waist and stomach. He could almost feel her skin through the wet baby blue dress. His mind was dizzy with desire and it drove him crazy.

His shadow entered hers as he rested his chest lightly on her upper body. His right leg was between her wet dress and legs. He felt her face beneath one hand and the earth beneath his other. Her body under his felt warm and overwhelming. He felt as if he could protect her from anything in this world.

Jean felt him pressed so tenderly atop of her. She felt as if she were touching the skin of an angel and looking at the face of God. Their breaths became heavier very calmly. Jean ran her hand up his muscular upper arm and then up to his soaked, stringy hair. She felt Scott shiver beneath her fingers and increase the warm taste of his kisses. Sweet kisses were seasoned upon her lips and showered upon her body. She could not decipher between the heavy rain pounding against them or their hearts pounding against each other.

Forever was a word that allowed itself to enter their minds at the moment. They could not think of anything. All they heard was each other's hearts. All they smelled was each other's scents. All they felt was each other's desires. After their lips felt numb against each other's for what seemed like forever, Scott lightly broke away as Jean slipped down from his lips. Her body leaned into his as he lightly pressed his hand against the edge of her back. His fingers lightly massaged her scalp and caressed the pieces of hair entangled in his fingers. His kisses washed away the raindrops upon her collarbone, shoulders, and neck. He was overwhelmed with his desires as he savored every touch and feel of the everlasting moments.

She felt so comfortable beneath his kisses. She leaned into his body that held her firmly. His face made it's way into her hair. He buried his nose into it as Jean welcomed him. He wanted to stay in there forever. Forever.

Jean ran the back of her hands down the left and right side of his broad back, through his wet shirt. She felt Scott lean against her and she felt his arousal. They held each other's faces once again and their lips met. They felt each other's skin, tongue and water falling from the sky.

Scott's hands ran up and down her stomach as Jean's stringy hair began to sprout water from the rising wind. The wind made them both shiver against each other. Scott placed a slight kiss on Jean's frozen lips as lightening flashed across the sky and his horse cried in the distance. They both gasped at the sound of the horse's cries. Jean and Scott looked solidly into each other's eyes as Scott placed a hand beneath Jean's wet head and another hand around the bottom of her back. He lifted them both up to be seated upright. She had her arms around his neck as she tilted her head to sink her lips into his once again. It was so natural to her, like feeling the rain against her heated skin.

They both got up gracefully as Scott firmly, yet tenderly held her hand to lead her to the horse. He placed his hands around her wet dress around her waist and lifted her to the horse, lightly brushing against him. He climbed onto the horse as she put her arms around his muscular chest. Scott's body temperature was increasingly high and he was afraid that feeling would vanish when she let go. The horse raced across the wet ground and crunched the leaves beneath its feet. Lightening raced across the sky as thunder rumbled loudly beneath the earth. But Jean and Scott did not tremble beneath the cold, for they had each other.

Scott hopped off the horse and reached his hands towards her waist to lightly bring her down. Her back was against the horse as Scott held her close to him. He brushed the wet strands of her hair away from her face and looked upon her with worship. The gleam in her eyes seemed to light up the earth before the thunder had. Scott had forgotten all things. Duncan, her mother, his parents, even the fact that they lived on earth. All he saw was Jean. Jean kept this gaze on him that made him shiver and falter.

"I am sorry that I do not have something to keep you warm," Scott said as he felt her shiver. He hinted his ensemble with his eyes. He was wearing a blouse, tights, and worn boots, nothing more. Jean did not gesture anything but a face that owned eyes which were gleaming brightly at the moment. Without any words, she kissed his lips tenderly.

Jean looked at the back of the palace and turned her head to him as her hand was slipping away from his. When it did slip out, Scott's arm was still outstretched. Jean walked forward and then stopped to look back and whisper, "Tomorrow, after the storm, there will be a rainbow."

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Author's Note REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!!


	11. Echoing Silence

Author's Note Thanks to all those reviewers out there. Keep reading because the story gets even more hectic! Hehe. Thanks to Lexan, Wen, Lil Jean, Mark C, Optic, Black-rose91, Williz. Black-rose91, I took your advice and wrote into this chapter. Hope you enjoy! Mark C, I agree with what you have to say and appreciate your anticipation. Wen, that was great thinking about the pregnancy, although I presume her mother would never speak to her or have anything to do with her, but just keep reading and you will find out what will happen. ****

Chapter 11

Jean had slept so peacefully the night before. Not waking up until late today with her head stuck in the clouds. She preferred to think of her head stuck in a puddle of rain and dirt because that is what she felt like. She felt as natural as the dirt every time she thought about Scott's kisses and as peaceful and steady as the rain every time she thought of that name. What a sweet name. Jean thought not of her mother's thoughts of gypsies and her title as princess. It was in her blood to be royal but Jean had no problem sharing that blood between something called love and someone called Scott.

After her peaceful sleep she was determined to tell Kitty everything before she met Scott tomorrow. She walked to her room with a twinkle in her eyes and a hopeful heart. She went into her room in hope to find Kitty fixing something of hers. She was overly joyous to the point where she could not hold it in any longer. She had to speak to Kitty. She had to tell her trusting mother figure everything. She had to speak to her right away. Scott was a secret she did not want to keep. She needed to let out what she felt. Love did not have one feeling. It was like a huge dictionary floating inside you heart, mind, and soul.

She wanted to tell Kitty that she loved the way Scott held his family together. She wanted to tell her how much she loved Scott's eyes and determination. She wanted to tell Kitty how much she loved the way Scott touched her. How much she loved the energy Scott showed to life every waking moment. When she was with him everything that would come out of her mouth would be philosophy. She felt safe in his muscular arms and warm heart. She felt beautiful when she was with him.

Jean looked inside but found no one. She walked rather quickly to the kitchen like she was a five year old looking for chocolate. She looked inside to find two of their cooks inside. They looked to her with a smile as she returned the biggest smile she has ever made in her entire life. Jean was anxious. She had to find Kitty. She searched the rooms and the garden, but nothing. She retreated to going back inside and searching the rooms once again, in case she missed something on the west side of the castle. "Mother, have you seen Kitty?" Jean had asked her mother in attempt to get an answer. Most likely she did not know where Kitty was. Jean does not recall her mother ever knowing where any of the servants were. Jean did not care if her mother knew. She does not care if her mother suspects her being with Scott. After the dinner party that is the first person she would ever think of being with. Not that it was not like this before.

"Jean, nonsense," Queen Elaine said with a wave of her gloved hand. She simply ignored her daughter and headed off to God knows where. She had a messenger behind her carrying a scroll of paper. Jean did not even want to ask. She just resorted to finding Kitty again.

Where else would Kitty be? _In the servant's quarters of course!_ Jean exclaimed to herself as she headed that way. She went down the steps and closed the iron door behind her. Everyone greeted her kindly and sweetly, for they loved Jean's spirit towards life. They also loved to be in her presence. She was good for company. "Hello," Jean greeted them all as they smiled and greeted back while work was being done all around them.

Jean lifted her neck higher to look over the heads spread around to see where Kitty was. But no sign of her. She had looked everywhere and no sign of her yet. "Where is Kitty?" Jean asked quietly. No one seemed to hear her. "Where is Kitty?" Jean asked a little louder for her to be heard this time. Nobody answered her once more. "WHERE IS KITTY?!? WHERE IS SHE!?!" Jean asked loudly, as if she were ordering them to inform her on Kitty's whereabouts.

All the servant's, all of her friends, all the people she had known for so long had just stopped. Silence rushed over her and the room echoed with sounds of breathing. Jean's heart sank to her stomach as she tightened her lips shut. Then she spoke with shakiness in her voice. "Where is she?" Jean whispered on the peak of bursting out of her body. She did not know what was happening at the moment. But she had a very bad feeling in her guts about it. Something was definitely not placed correctly. Then again, nothing in life was ever place properly at the proper time. Nothing.

Lance, a humble yet temperamental servant that Jean knew for so long took his hat off in front of Jean and held it to the top of his stomach. He titled his head slightly forward and looked up at her with sad eyes. Something Jean rarely saw in him. Silence washed over them once again as Jean focused her gaze on the man in front of her, waiting for an answer. Sometimes questions seemed much more logical than answers.

"She's gone your highness," Lance said with a gloomy face. Everyone looked to her with empathy because she was oblivious to this. How could she be oblivious? She was the princess! "Your majesty the Queen has shipped her off to the Americas. Just last night."

Jean's lips were dry and silent for everlasting moments. She closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cold cheek. Everyone bent their heads forward as Jean did the same. The only thing she felt she could do.

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Jean placed the hood over her head to cover herself. She watched the guards that had been guarding the doors to the stalks and they did not flinch once. She tried to conjure up a plan to stop this torment by freeing prisoners who are in there because the system lacks justice.

After being traumatized by the shocking news about Kitty, her mother and best friend, she raced out here. She had to do this, even if the night seemed darker tonight than any other. She had the urge to free Logan, despite her past attempts to do so. She was determined and forceful upon it. She was not taking this matter lightly this time around. She was going to scream. She was going to scream at the top of her lungs. "FIRE!!!" Jean came out and ran towards the guards, hood still over her head. "FIRE IN A HOUSE NEARBY!!!" Jean screamed as she watched the guards scurry to where her finger was pointing. How could they obey Duncan to set fire to a home and then try to save another home from a fire?

Jean ran inside and shut the door behind her. She put her hand to her heart and leaned against the door with a sigh of relief. She walked down the steps to enter bars. She heard a whip in the distance and gasped at the sound. Torture. She walked passed the bars in search of a familiar face. The face of Logan's. The face of a father and a husband. And most importantly, a person.

She walked passed the people reaching their hands out weakly as they moaned and groaned. "Please help us," voices muttered all at once. Jean wanted to shut her ears and close her eyes. She wanted to pretend this was not reality and the sounds she was hearing were hallucinations. But she knew she could not. She had never been down here before and she never wanted to come down here again. It was dark with an orange light that gave her a feeling of gloominess. Whips were echoed in the distance and suffering was seen around the prison. If anything should be burned down, it should be this place.

Jean gasped as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs that led deeper down. The stairs where the whips echoed and the screams could be heard. She hid behind a brick wall at the end of the bars where there were more steps. A door was suddenly slammed and the sounds of whips and screaming were drowned out. Silent and hard breathing came from behind the wall Jean hid behind. No moans. No complaints. A man that seemed to take the pain, as if it were alright for this to happen. As if he was too afraid to cry out. Jean peaked her head slightly out to see a man crouched on his knees with his palms pressed to the ground and his head bent forward, his breath heaving.

Her shadow had crawled on the ground for the hurt man to see. He titled his face slightly up to catch Jean's eye. Jean looked into the brown eyes of a man she once recognized. She gasped at the sight of seeing someone she knew hurt and tortured. She came out from behind the wall with the keys still in her hands and bent to kneel on her knees. "Logan," she said with sympathy and empathy, although she knew she could never be able to feel what he felt at this moment. She swallowed a pool of saliva sitting in her mouth as she looked at his weary eyes and his tired face.

"Jeannie," Logan said as Jean let a small smile escape her lips. She would always love it when he called her that. And to hear those words and that voice spoken again was music to her ears. "Run Jeannie. Get out of here."

Jean placed her hand slightly over the bruises on his face and shoulders. She cringed at the sight of them. All this, for what? Why? "I am here to help you," Jean heard herself say as if those words were full of meaning.

"You can't help me Jeannie," Logan said. "Get out of here. You have your whole life ahead of you. Go. Get out of here. This is no place for you." Jean hated herself at that moment when Logan said those words. She knew they were true. She hated herself and the whole world for being silent. She questioned God for being silent.

Before Jean could mutter another word a door was kicked open. Foot steps were heard upon stairs as a group of guards grabbed Jean from behind. Jean struggled to get free of their grasp but it was useless. She saw a glimpse of Logan's head drop. "You should not be down here Princess!" the guards said through gritted teeth, as if they knew she would pull something like this off. "LOGAN! NO! LET ME GO, YOU IMBECILES! I AM THE PRINCESS OF FRANCE!!!" Jean yelled as if that would help. She knew all they would do is inform the king and queen of her actions. But she could care less. All she wanted to do was break free of their grasp. They were physically and spiritually dragging her out, with effort because of the fight she put up. But it was useless.

Logan heard her screaming until it subsided when the door slammed behind them and it was heard in the distance. A guard kicked Logan upon the back of his neck and bent down to grab the keys. The guard placed the keys in his pocket and began to chuckle.

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The morning sun peaked through the trees. There was a twinkle in his eyes. Much like the twinkle he had deep within every time he saw Jean. But now he wore it out on his sleeves.

Scott waited for her where vines grew upon concrete walls that were torn down long ago. Flowers grew from the vines crawling upon the walls and leaves fluttered upon the cracked concrete floor. A tree lie in the middle, bent over upon the middle rock of the roofless room.

Scott remembered when Jean had brought him here to read a book. It was a very intriguing book about a man who found life and freedom in his lover's eyes. He found his other half within another person. That is how Scott felt at the moment. She completed him. His smile could only be conjured when he was with her. Her smile, her laughter, he loved to hear. He loved to listen to her beautiful words. He loved to watch her graceful body and open mind. Everyday he found something new about her and he loved the way her eyes brought him deeper each time he looked into them. He always used to question why he was even living if living properly was not allowed for gypsies. But he respected and appreciated his life when Jean, a princess, found contentment with his family. When he looked at her, he answered his own question of why he was even living.

He heard crunching on the ground and knew Jean was here. Finally, he could wrap her in his arms where they could be able to get lost together. "Scott?" Jean's voice sounded desperate to speak to him. Scott managed to sneak up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist. He bent down slightly to place his mouth upon her shoulder. Jean leaned into him and lightly smiled. He kissed her cheek and whispered light words in her ear, "It is good to see you, as usual."

"Scott," Jean whispered as she tried to stop him from making her loose her words. She had to say what needed to be said. She turned around in his arms to meet face to face with her glistening eyes. They were glazed with tears that began to stream down her face. He hated seeing tears in her eyes. He needed and yearned to see her beautiful smile that woke him up in the morning and made him smile every time he thought about it.

He brushed his thumb across the tear on her face and wiped it upon his fingers. He wanted all her worries to wash over him. His heart ached when he heard her sob ever so lightly. "What is bothering you Jean?" Scott asked as he searched her eyes. He held her upper arms and looked upon her beautiful face. "What has happened?" His heart melted at the sight of seeing her sad.

"Kitty's gone," Jean whispered. "Logan, he will never be able to……" Jean's words drifted off as she held her breath. "You say I can do anything."

"I know you can," Scott said as he caught her gaze. Jean felt so comfortable in his grasp. She wanted to bury her face in his chest and so she did. She folded her arms upon it as Scott held her around him, and embraced her warmth.

"No, Scott," Jean whispered through choked sobs. Her whole body trembled beneath Scott with uncontrollable sobs. "I can't. I really can't. I really can't," she repeated. "I am truly sorry."

He had tried to rescue Logan when he was a little boy. He always thought that if he were prince of France he could do anything, including releasing the prisoners. There was no absolute reason they should be imprisoned. But now he saw that even a princess could not do such a thing.

She had come to his rescue when their home was attacked and burned down. She had comforted him and let him know that there was still hope. Now he wanted to do the same. He wanted to comfort her in any way possible and make it as easier on her as possible, as she did with him. He wanted to be her protector, her world.

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REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	12. Place your Hands Together and Pray

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Disclaimer These characters are not owned by me but I can still do as I please with them…………. Muhahahaha (I **love** that laugh)!

Author's Note Thanks to all those readers out there for everything. Without all of you I would be lost. I have been getting many suggestions and questions as to Scott and Jean freeing Logan together, but sadly they won't be doing that any time soon. The story might come to an end in the next one or two chapters. I need all the reviews I can get about your overviews and guesses on what will happen next. The end will come soon with a loud thud and I am warning all of you to be aware of sorrow…………I could be joking, I could be telling you the truth…………read to find out.

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Chapter 12

Queen Elaine paced the room as if she were floating. One gloved hand was under her chin in disapprovement as she stared at her daughter in disgrace. "Jean-Marie DeGreyon," her mother said as Jean looked straight forward with an expressionless face. The last person she wanted to talk to was her mother. After the shocking news about Kitty, Jean did not even want to think that she was blood related to this woman. She wanted to yell at her and pull her perfect hair out, but Jean knew that would not do any good. Queen, princess. Mother, daughter. What is done is done and she wished she could change that. But reality was, she could not. "Did you, or did you not steal keys?"

"Yes," Jean said solemnly. She had the urge to say one word to describe her exact actions. She did do this and she was definitely not ashamed.

"Did you, or did you not steal the same keys that would unlock the cells to allow the prisoners to escape?" Queen Elaine asked as she stopped and looked at her daughter with piercing eyes. Jean looked straight at her mother and did not flinch or blink once.

"Yes," Jean stated with a tightened mouth and a set jawline.

"No doubt where you had learned to steal," Queen Elaine muttered as Jean took in a deep breath to try and stay calm at what she pretended not to hear. She felt the same feeling she had felt at the dinner party. The tightening in her throat and sinking of her heart. "No doubt you were influenced to do such a thing by that _wretched gypsy boy_!"

"Enough Mother!!!" Jean exclaimed as she got up from her seat. "I stole to try and save someone. Someone who is innocent. But do you see them released?"

"Nonsense Jean-Marie," King John said as he stepped forward. "I do presume you have gone too far this time."

"You are seventeen now. It is time," Queen Elaine said as she watched her daughter's expression go numb. "The invitations are already out. The wedding is a week from now," Queen Elaine said with a strict tone. Jean knitted her eyebrows together in horror.

Jean sat back down on the chair she had rebelled from. What is the point? She felt her heart in her stomach and her mind filled with cobwebs. Her whole body felt numb at the few words that were spoken. She felt like she had been slapped. Hard. What was she going to tell Scott? What if she could stay with the gypsies, forever. Would that only put them in danger by soldiers who own dangerous weapons and can track them down?

Jean, who still had wide and shocked eyes took a stroll to the garden. She went down concrete steps and into a concrete floor surrounded by beautiful roses and green plants. Jean took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She placed her hands over her face and shook her head. "No, no," she whispered with worry and fear.

She wanted to cry until there were no more tears. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs even when she knew she would not be heard. This betrothal has been known to her since she was a little girl. But never in her mind had she thought of actually marrying Duncan when the time came. She thought that time would never come, especially after realizing how much she wanted to be with Scott. Time was funny. It had distracted her from reality and thrown the truth back at her when she was unaware. When she was caught up in an invisible web. She could always get rid of Duncan by using a sword……but then she would just be a murderer……

"Excited about our wedding day?" Duncan asked in a cold manner. He had no kindness about him what-so-ever. Is that any way to treat your bride? "You can finally be _mine_." Jean cringed at the words he spoke. She made sure to keep her distance from him as she fiddled with the flowers around her to not stare at his cold eyes but at his hard face. She did not want to be in the same room with a murderer and possessive man, let alone stuck with him through marriage and for the rest of her life.

"I am not property. I belong to no one," Jean cruelly retorted. Duncan folded his arms across his chest and pursed his lips.

"Inviting that gypsy boy to dinner was inhumane. To actually let him walk where royalty walked. Pitiful," Duncan said as he contorted his mouth in disgust. Jean did not want to fight back, she was tired. All she wanted to do was get away from him. She walked towards the small steps that led to the long steps. But a shadow came over her. Duncan had stepped in front of her, blocking her way. Jean was afraid to look up, but she did. She stepped back to try and get out of his shadow.

When getting away did not work she resorted to words. "It is pitiful. He is much better than that," she said with a short breath and rising temper. Jean's face suddenly flew to the side as Duncan's hand slapped the surface of her left cheek. She held her cheek in dismay as she scolded at him. "Don't think I know nothing of you and the gypsy boy. If he comes near you, I'll kill him."

Jean looked at his evil face and fear rose within her. She felt it. She had a bad feeling about his words and his face. His tone was cold, yet truthful. He would have killed Scott if he had gotten in his way when he attacked the gypsies. What made it any different at this moment?

Jean did not want to say anything more in fear of what Duncan might say back. This man was fire from hell. Jean shoved past him and scurried up the concrete steps. "Have a good day princess," Duncan called back lightly, voice changing when he spotted Queen Elaine.

"You are the sweetest young man. Do not worry. Jean will learn to live with you," Queen Elaine said as she continued down the steps and towards the gates heading out to the bridge.

Duncan smiled at her words. "I am sure she will."

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The stars were glistening tonight with a beautiful light.

Scott began to help his mother with some of the food she had been gathering. He was carrying a basket full of fruits as he stopped to listen to Rogue's German words. She had come back to the gypsies and he had learned more about her. She had not wanted to be touched in any way. Because in the past, many men had taken advantage of her. But she seemed to be comfortable with Remy. Scott laughed at what he and Jean had heard of Rogue when they were younger. They had heard that she was filthy and murderous to mothers. But the truth was nothing like that. In fact, he had learned that their mother had abandoned them. It was nice to see someone who had gone through so much and still have a spirit. A soul.

Remy and Rogue made his heart smile when he heard Remy speaking French to a girl who knew only German, and Rogue still smiling back as if she understood every word he said. Love did not have a language, or a title. French, German. Gypsy, royalty. Same differences. Scott thought of Jean and felt like he could conquer anything.

He watched as Remy tucked a piece of Rogue's loose hair behind her ear. Rogue had hesitantly allowed him to do so. She allowed someone to touch her, if even the slightest touch. It was good to see people starting new beginnings and making changes. Maybe he would be able to have a chance to be with Jean his whole life. After he had overcome the blinding gleam in his eyes he had realized that Jean had parents that did not approve of him and a fiancé that Jean resented. But he knew with time everything would be alright.

He watched Rogue and Remy once again with a smile and felt the need to see Jean. Right this instant. He had to see her. He handed the basket to Ororo and made sure everything was alright before he ran to his horse. "Where are you going at this time of night my son?" Ororo asked with curiosity.

"I am going to see the stars," Scott said as Ororo smiled. She thought of Logan and sighed with sorrow. At least she knew when her love was lost another love would bloom.

"Silly boy. What love can do to a person," Ororo said with a light laugh. She closed her eyes and imagined Logan in her arms. "Scott…"

"Yes Mother?" Scott said as he turned to her on his horse before he fled.

"Take care of Jean. Keep her close."

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Jean wrapped the covers around her upper body as Kitty would do every night. She prayed for Kitty, wherever she was. Praying seemed like the only meaningful thing she could do right now. She looked up at the ceiling with wide open eyes and a blank expression. She could not think, for she could not classify anything swimming in her bloated head at the moment. She could not confront Scott. How would she? Speaking to him was not the problem. Seeing his expression was. Feeling her hurt was.

She tried to keep out the thought of marriage to a horrible man that was lurking in her head. Scott had told her to think of her favorite things every time she felt the slightest sadness. It would wash everything away like a pool of water running down to a river. She automatically thought of Scott. What else would create such magic?

Jean did not remember thinking of rocks to make her feel better. She did not remember thinking of a noise rocks made when they hit hard material to make her feel better. She turned her head towards the window to follow the sound. What in the world was that. She was not afraid to open her shudders and look down. Her heart knew somehow Scott would be down there throwing rocks at her shudders. Why, she did not know. She opened the shudders to look down and spot a head of brown. Scott was hunched over, horse behind him, picking up a rock. He blindly threw it at the window. Jean gasped as she moved out of the way of the rock. "You know if you keep your eyes closed you are going to slam right into a door," Jean said, looking back at where the rock had flown through.

"But I have you to guide me," Scott said locking eyes with Jean.

Jean, despite everything that had been happening lately, let out a smile. A wide smile at the man below her. "What in God's name are you doing?" Jean asked with smugness and hysteria as she leaned against the window sill. She noticed the stars shining brightly in the sky and had to blink. He smiled back in response as he gazed at her as if she should be worshipped.

"I have come to say hello," Scott said with a soft voice that seemed to glow in the bright light of the moon. Jean drew invisible circles with her slender finger upon the concrete of the window sill.

"There is not anything or anyone to fear in life but those who fear life and everyone in it, rather than live it," Jean spoke with wisdom. "Those were the words I once heard years ago from a very intelligent being. She goes by the name of Ororo."

"Words that certainly have an appeal and truth to them," Scott said as he gave Jean that genuine look that she has known all her life. "I do not fear anyone or anything when I look at you."

"Scott," Jean said with a sad tone. "We cannot do this. We should have never done this."

"Done what? Love. Love is not done, it just is," Scott said with a low, yet hypnotizing voice. "We cannot stop time, for this has happened many, many years ago."

"Scott……" Jean said as her voice was lost. Disappearing in the cool night air.

"Jean-Marie DeGreyon!" Scott yelled upwards with a little loudness. "You have already said yes to my proposal! We are already engaged, remember!" Scott's voice boomed with a pleasant tone.

"Shh," Jean hissed as she looked at Scott and giggled with glistening eyes. Jean placed her fingers towards her mouth and kissed her fingertips to bring them down lightly, in the direction of Scott. Scott's lips curled slightly.

"Jean, meet me tomorrow at my home," Scott said with anticipation.

"I………" Jean hesitated. She remembered Duncan's cold words. What if Duncan saw her with Scott. What if he followed her. He would be keeping an eye on her a week before their wedding. Scott would certainly be in danger. That was something Jean did not want to do. "I cannot." She looked at Scott's confused face and bit her lower lip. "Uh………not this week." He has done it again. He has made her give in. Give in to reality and create hope. "Exactly a week from now. In front of the cathedral."

"I shall wait for you as long as my heart is beating," Scott said as he climbed onto his horse and sent a small kiss towards her window. Jean closed her eyes and drowned in the moment. She did not know how to come back up and catch her breath.

She watched as Scott disappeared into the distance.

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Jean sat there silently at the dinner table as she listened to her mother's babbling with their guests and Duncan and his parent's speak of what they were going to accomplish after the marriage. Babbling was heard in Jean's ears. No real words. She looked at her food as if it was something she has never seen before.

What was she doing here? She was angry with the world. She questioned God's judgment. Why had he introduced love between her and Scott when it would never be. Was it a test or was it fate? She questioned mankind. God had given them thoughts so they could speak words with those thoughts, but people were always silent. Jean wanted to scream at the top of her lungs but could only do it within the boundaries of her emotions.

She could not think anymore. She could not live anymore. Not like this. Jean looked to Duncan and then her mother. Then she looked to her father and Duncan's parents. Then she looked upon everyone sitting at the table. She noticed their food was all done. So she shot out of her chair, trying to be as graceful as possible. "May I be excused?" Jean asked abruptly. She had not wanted to sneak off for she knew Duncan would become suspicious. So she simply told the truth and nothing but the truth.

"Jean darling," Duncan tried to say nicely. "Where would you be headed off to?"

"I have been missing too many Sundays at church," Jean said to everyone as a whole as they nodded lightly in silence and Jean exited. Everyone standing up for her departure. Jean walked without looking back. Faith seemed like the only thing that would cling to keep her soul alive. God, who she could not hide anything from would understand. More than she could at least.

Jean finally made it to the cathedral and let the carriage that had brought her here disappear from her view. She looked towards the large church and devoured every detail with her eyes. She always wanted to remember it's importance. She walked in to find it scattered with many citizens of France praying. Their hands were together and their heads were either bent or looking up. People always looked up because they never wanted to look around them. Not with the horrifying things they would realize.

She spotted Kurtis at the front of the church with his hands together in prayer and his head bowed towards the statue of Virgin Mary and Jesus. She spotted Rogue who was unhooded. Her brown hair flowing down her back. Her face content. Jean smiled at the sight of those two. She knew that she had really come running to them. Maybe they could give her some answers.

She spotted another head. She sighed deeply and inhaled the clean air of the church. Apparently Scott had come running to Kurtis and Rogue for answers also. The royal news was never kept secret. Not something as big as a wedding. Jean knew he would find out sooner or later and he knew that that day would have to come. Jean just hoped it had not been this soon.

She walked up to Kurtis and Rogue and turned to Kurtis. She imitated Scott's actions. He did not even turn to look at her and she did the same. They would be speechless to each other anyhow and they both knew they could not hold their anger at the world if they looked upon each other. "Kurtis, I had nowhere else to go," Jean whispered as Kurtis did not turn to her, yet kept his gaze among the cross between the statues to the side. Candles were lit next to the statues to give off warmth and soft light.

Scott heard her voice but chose to look forward. He could not confront her. Not if he knew he could not have her. He put his hands together as he whispered the same words a second after Rogue had whispered them. Jean looked to Kurtis. "Shh," Kurtis had whispered lightly after Jean had spoken. His head motioned for her to follow his eyes towards the cross straight ahead. She was standing on the step next to Scott while Rogue and Kurtis were one step above them. "Just put your hands together and pray. Just pray."

Jean put her hands together as she repeated words a second after Scott's. She closed her eyes and prayed.

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Author's Note Next chapter or next two chapters is the ending. This is where I need the feedback because I need to feed off of the reviews!!! OR I'LL DIE!!!


	13. Forever

**Chapter 13**

Tears had threatened to fall this whole week. They had finally fallen. Two drops of sadness that had a story to tell. A story that could fill the pages of a large book.

One week. It had passed by so quickly. Jean had not seen Scott since then. The last time she had seen him was not even at the church. It had been through her window. That was the last time she had seen his eyes. When she closed her window that night, she hoped a door would open. But the only thing she had seen in her mind was the door to the cathedral open.

She stared at her own eyes for a long and silent moment. They whispered silent tears. She held the crumpled rose between her fingers. Entranced by the wilted and dead rose intertwined in her hands, she remembered the day he had given it to her. She had picked it off the ground and kept it. For so many years. It did not smell as sweet or look as healthy, but it did in her memories.

She unconsciously fiddled with a the loose strands of her curled hair. She patted the poofed heap of straightened hair on the top of her head. Looking in the mirror at her red lips and golden eye shadow she had to blink twice. Why was she all made-up today and dressed very properly? "Madam, it is almost time," a woman spoke from the door. Jean stared at the reflection of her face in the mirror blankly and statue-like. Oh yes, she remembered.

Down a few steps and then up the steps of the carriage. Up the stairs of the cathedral she walked as her dress slithered behind her. Golden jewelry, that of a princess and future queen. Golden sleeves that circled her upper arms and a little below her elbow. The sleeves went around her arm like a fluffy cloud that shadowed the sun. Red see-through material hung off of her lower arm and off her limp hands. They stretched far from her fingers, where she could not reach the edges. The dangling sleeves touched the beginning of the bottom of her dress. An emblem was hung across the red material hanging over her stomach loosely. The top of her dress held her breasts together firmly as the waved lines engraved as a design overlapped each other in a hectic manner. She felt as if she had no legs as she walked behind the large dress circling around her in a large heap. She felt someone place a long cape behind her. The cape felt like an anchor. An anchor tied to that of a wedding dress.

Her eyes flew from left to right as she looked at the people who were looking at her in awe. Maybe she was looking towards them to see their blind eyes, or maybe she was looking at them so she would not have to look at the groom.

She looked at her Grandfather quite lovingly when she walked down the isle as a respectful "thank you". A thank you for trying and believing that a gypsy was worthy enough to love a princess. But a thank you without a smile or an open heart. Her heart was shut tightly at the moment. Everything that passed her as she walked down the isle was as if she was dreaming. Everything seemed vague and unreal. Everyone seemed unfamiliar and her heart seemed to be lost. Her body was trembling inside. She could scream at the top of her lungs right this moment and no one would hear her.

When she felt the goose bumps paint themselves across her skin, she remembered distant words. But they became clear when she repeated them over and over again._ There is not anything or anyone to fear in life but those who fear life and everyone in it, rather than live it, _she thought to herself over and over again until the words sank into her actions. _I am not going to fear life anymore. Or anyone in it. I am going to embrace it._ She reached the priest with wide eyes. Not even glancing at Duncan as she reached him at the top of the steps covered with red carpet. She looked at the priest, who had a knowing expression, and knew she had to turn her dress around. She had to turn her direction around because she was obviously lost. Her stare was fixated on the front cathedral doors as she unhooked the cape from her shoulders and ran down the steps, ignoring the words of those around her and the loud gasps.

"Jean!" Duncan exclaimed harshly behind her.

But her thoughts were like the sound of thunder over lightning towards the meaningless words of wedding guests. A wedding was supposed to be a joyous occasion and that is what Jean was going to make of it. She pushed the cathedral doors open and let her large dress trail behind her. Her crown fell to the ground as she reached her hand out for another and felt the horse's hind legs beneath her. The man in front of her kicked his two legs to the side of the horse as the horse ran into the distance.

She knew he would come.

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A breeze blew past their warm faces. He held her with a firm grip around her waist and let her down easily, while Jean held onto his upper arms for support. After she was on the ground he kept his grip on her waist and pulled her closer, very slowly. Jean did not object to his actions. Her eyes did not flinch or even ponder the idea of looking somewhere other than the two pure blue eyes staring the same way back. She thought she would never see those eyes again.

He held her close to him, embracing her strongly with his lips. He knew Duncan had not touched her, for her lips remained tasting sweet. Jean placed her arms firmly and tenderly on the muscular strength of his upper arms. She pulled him even closer to her fluffy dress. Scott took the moment to look at her so close through his eyes and through the sun's eyes when their kiss had broken slowly. He looked towards the river he had brought her to. The only place he could think to go. He did not care what happened after this day based on their action's consequences. Love sees nothing but their lover.

"Jean," he whispered into her ear as Jean shivered at the way he said her name. As if it was the most valuable thing in the world. He wanted to tell her in so many ways how much he loved being in her arms and listening to her words. He wanted to tell her how much he enjoyed being in her lovable presence. But he looked into her eyes, getting deeper and deeper with every millisecond he did this, and knew that only these words would express everything he felt. "I love you."

Jean stood there and gazed at him. She ran her soft fingertips over his left eyebrow and left eye, down to the tips of his lips. Scott kissed her fingertips lightly as they slipped down back to his arm. Scott took her hands in his and kissed them lightly as he placed them tenderly over his shoulders and around his neck. He was truly beautiful. The sun's light spoke of this also. The moon would be jealous of the sun's beautiful light. "I love you," she whispered softly as their lips met again and their tongues and lips synchronized within each other passionately. As if they belonged to the world and there was nothing they could do about it. As if the they were the only people that belonged to the world.

But a sudden and quick breaking of their lips by a sharp sword would prove otherwise. Jean gasped as her eyes watched Scott fall against the water in slow motion as if the water was as hard as iron . She just watched as the racing horse that was belonging to the man on it came towards Scott as if he was dirt itself. The unmerciful sword came slashing across his face. Across the top part of his face, where his eyes shone no longer. Everything around her turned black. Her head was dizzy of what she had just seen. "SCOTT!!!" was all her reaction was to Scott's scream that scratched her heart so forcefully. It was all she could react to. What was she supposed to do? Put bandages on his eyes and everything would be better?

A hand suddenly grabbed her wrists and dragged her with the racing horse, fighting against her struggle to pull her up and run away with her. She looked up at the familiar horse and the familiar cold face. "Stop it Duncan!!!" she yelled with all her might and struggled as she tumbled on the ground and listened to the echoing shoes of the horse upon the withered leaves. Her hands clenched the dirt beneath her with anger and sorrow.

She ran to Scott, hearing nothing but her heart beating loudly in her throat. She knelt lightly down in the water, her large dress gathered around her, her eyes afraid of what they would see. Her sleeves wrapped themselves around the sides of Scott's face as she brought him into her lap and rocked his head against her chest, and rocked their bodies to and fro. She looked down at his face and touched the blood, that was upon her dress and skin now, with her shaking hands. She touched the red blood dripping down his torn eyes numbly. The blood was mixed with water and dirt. The wind blew by them. Would she ever be able to see his beautiful blue eyes again? Was her soul destroyed forever? She did not know.

She just touched his bloody eyes with her dirt covered fingers. "I cannot see you Jean," Scott whispered. "Why can't I see you?" Scott's body was shaking and his head was trembling. "I can feel you." Jean closed her eyes tightly. She too did not want to see this world or anyone in it. Not at this very moment. Tears were the only thing that could express her hurt right now, and so they did. They slipped down her soft, yet cold face and into the eyes that were no longer visible on Scott's face. Many tears began to slip down. But Scott could not hear her silent sobs. He could not see her crying. "Please do not cry," Scott begged as Jean held his head against her lap. "I want to see your smile. Please show it to me."

Jean's tears were not silent anymore. But her sobs choked inside her throat and her tears poured like never ending rain against her numb face. She felt Scott's hands touch her wet cheek and wipe away a tear so tenderly. His breath began to tremble even more. But now it was over the sound of her tears rather than the hurt in his eyes.

The sound of the horse's shoes raced back like striking thunder as Scott was thrown against a tree bark. Scott's face was blank and forward and his body was trembling. When was the fight for happiness and love going to end? He felt weak and useless because he did not fight back. He tumbled to the ground, his back against the tree trunk and his arms limp to his side.

He was blind right this moment. All he saw was black. But he had known the owner of the sword with blood painted on it was Duncan's. He knew a sword was very close to him. Duncan's intent this time was to rid Scott from this world. From Jean. The thought of that caused Scott to tumble over, away from the pointed sword. He heard the sword flop up and down, for it had gotten trapped in the tree bark. He got up and held his hands up in fists. "Come closer and fight like a man you coward!" Scott exclaimed, although the pain pierced his eyes greatly.

Duncan's laughter was as great as his ego. But a punch in the nose and eye had surprisingly shut him up. Scott reached out blindly to grab Duncan and he brought him to the ground. Jean watched as she ran towards them. They were punching, kicking, and twisting each other forcefully. Duncan was now over Scott in a heap. "Stop it!!!" Jean yelled eagerly as she pushed with all her might to get Duncan off of Scott. But Duncan shoved her many feet away from the brawl they were in.

"Stay out of this Jean," Duncan said with hatred as he punched Scott in the eyes. Scott let out a painful scream as his eyes pounded even more. But Scott retaliated and pushed Duncan off of him and towards the tree trunk, where his back scratched the old bark with full force. He got up with anger and pulled the sword forcefully out of the tree as he walked calmly over to Scott. Scott got up quickly as he heard footsteps crunching the leaves on the ground. He was ready to fight.

Everything was happening so quickly. Jean saw her life flash before her eyes. If only she could have said those words over and over again for the rest of her life. _I love you_, her mind spoke. But her lips wanted to fill the vibration of those words against her tongue again. Forever. But forever was a non-existent word at this very moment, when she was face to face with the tip of a sword. She looked into the sword for a brief second to see her face. Her face looked as if her heart had been broken. As if her love was over. It was. And now, her life was too. The sword sliced through her stomach and her eyes closed. Her soul disappeared.

He had heard her. He had heard Jean running silently. He heard her heart beating so loudly. He heard her scream and he felt someone fall to the ground next to him. _Jean? _Scott asked himself like an idiot. He could not lie to himself. He knew exactly what happened. He knew why Jean was silent this time. But he still failed to understand why. He reached out his hands to find her face and felt her soft cheek upon his cold skin. He found her hand and bent his head towards it. Lying there with his head bent towards her hand that laid in his.

Endless minutes of silence and hurt; a horrible voice echoed through Scott's loud sobs. But he did not care who heard him. He did not care who saw. Not today.

"I…I didn't mean to. It was an accident," Duncan stuttered as Scott ignored him and waited for the sword to cut his heart into more pieces than it already was. "It is all your fault," Duncan's familiar voice came into play.

"You are right," Scott said between choked sobs. "If loving is a sin." The pain pierced through his eyes as the blood fell to Jean's cold, limp hands. He laid next to her torn dress. He laid his head against the side of her shoulder and wrapped his arm around her mid stomach. "Kill me." Silence rang through the air. "Spare me life. Kill my body. My soul has already left."

Another loud silence floated in mid-air.

A sound of a sword being drawn was heard.

The sound of footsteps climbing onto a horse sounded.

The shoes of the horse crunched the leaves in the now far distance of his ears.

The sword dropped between the two bodies with blood from both bodies painted across the top.

Their bodies were still and lifeless, but the water from the river continued to flow. It continued to flow forever.

The word forever was not to be understood by such fragile minds.

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**Author's Note STAY TUNED FOR MORE!!! FOR THE FINALE!!! VERY, VERY, VERY SOON……… ONLY IF THE HUMBLE READERS SHALL REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **


	14. Timeless

**TIMELESS**

**Another time. Another place.**

Seventeen year-old Jean Grey looked out the windshield blankly. She looked at the night sky with wonder. The stars looked beautiful tonight. If only everybody would appreciate them. She looked to Scott and appreciated him being next to her at the moment. Without him, she would not be able to do this.

Scott looked out the windshield with his hands firmly on the steering wheel of his red convertible. He also looked blankly outside and lost at the words he needed to choose to tell Jean. He wanted to tell her that he loved her. He wanted to say it in so many ways but he did not know where to start. He wanted to tell her that he wanted no one else but her. He just needed to muster up the strength, bravery, and right words to tell her. "Do you think they'll listen?" Scott said as his eyes turned to her for a second behind his ruby quartz sunglasses.

Jean looked towards him and smiled with reassurance. "Well we have to try, don't we?" she said with hope. They were headed to a conference at the school. After the incident with the sentinels and them revealing to the world mutants existed, citizens of Bayville were not too happy about plenty of them attending school with their children. Someone had to start peace starting small and Professor Xavier had chosen her to speak in front of all those people. Jean had no problem with public speaking, but she feared what the aftermath of her speech would be. What if the result is them being forbidden from school grounds, all because of Jean's possible unconvincing speech?

"Jean," Scott said lightly as he stared straight ahead to avoid eye contact with her. He knew no one could see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but he had a feeling at all times that Jean could. She knew. As if she had seen his eyes before and studied every aspect of them. It scared him sometimes, but in a loving way. But he turned to her to find the right words and knew that the only words needed to be said were the ones he saw floating in her eyes. "I love you." They kept eye contact until it was time for Scott to revert his eyes back to the road.

Jean's eyes grew wide and glistened as she looked past the red glare on his sunglasses. She smiled widely at him and said, "I love you too Scott. I always will," Jean said whole-heartedly as he gave her a smile back.

Something sudden came in sight of the front glass of the car. "SCOTT LOOK OUT!!!" Jean exclaimed as she attempted to stop the truck with telekinesis. But the strong headlights flashed before their eyes and the sound of a truck's motor came towards their range of sound. For an instant their hearts raced and for another their hearts could not beat any longer.

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The line was straight as the loud sound of the machine rang through the air. Kitty, Kurt, Rogue, Beast, Ororo, Logan, and Professor Xavier stood there as their hearts sank. The sight of their team mates and, more importantly, their family members with scratches and deep bruises made them cringe. The dried blood on their arms, necks, and faces was traumatizing to their eyes. They watched silently as the machines rang with that straight line running across the screen.

The doctor looked to them with sympathy as he professionally reached to unplug the machine that was running a straight line. The sound was deafening. Everyone watched and waited for a miracle. Any sound from their friends, their family.

The doctor looked away from them and reached for the plug lightly.

But a different sound began to emanate through the room like warm and low thunder. A sound of hope.

"Wait!" Logan yelled gruffly at the doctor as he looked at the machine. The waved lines began to overlap the straight one slowly. The doctor looked to them with confused lines upon his forehead. He put the machine on the table and looked at the machine again.

"It's a miracle," the doctor said with a surprised expression. He got to work with the machine's around him to revitalize their bodies. When he was done and everything was working fine he looked to everyone in the room with hope written on their faces and said the most beautiful words spoken, "Looks like your friends get another chance."

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**Author's Note Did you like it, love it, hate it? There is only one way to find out, REVIEW!!!!!!! This is the end and I seriously need feedback. Please, I'm begging you!!! If you ask questions and want them answered please leave me an email. Thanks.**

Stay tuned for a JOTT story being posted immediately after this one. _I'm Already There _is the title. It is based on the song "I'm Already There" by Lonestar and this is not in any way connected to _Timeless_.


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